


My Dean Calls Me 'Brother' - Full Series for Download

by GertieCraign



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon References to Major Character Death - Canon, Angst and Feels, Awesome Bobby Singer, Best Friends, Bobby Lives, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Has Realizations, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean being a pain in the ass but he has a good reason, Denial, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Ellipsis and Dash Abuse, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Headcanon, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, No One Else Dies In This Fic, Our Cas Is In One of Them, Our Cas is with the Winchesters in This Universe, Pining, Regret, Sad, Season/Series 12 Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Self-Sacrifice, Swearing, Tags for Parallel Universe Fics are Really Hard, The Rift Opened Alternate Parallel Universes, This Series has a Happy Ending, This Universe's Cas Died on the Beach in Washington, if I did it right, what might have been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 23:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GertieCraign/pseuds/GertieCraign
Summary: A reader alerted me to the fact that a series is more difficult to manage/download on certain devices. I didn't know that. So...here's the whole series squashed down into a single fic...for your downloading convenience. ;-)[Please note - it might seem choppy, going from chapter to chapter. It wasn't meant to be a properly written fic, rather a series of scenes from a single storyline. But, it'll still make sense in this format.]The rift opened. Cas stepped through. The rift pulsed...The apocalyptic universe our Cas was in when the rift finally closed was a nightmare.After a little more than a week, he managed to find a way to reopen the rift, but when he stepped through, the universe he found was just slightly 'off'. For one thing, Dean immediately kissed him. That was...unexpected.





	1. My Dean Calls Me 'Brother'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MadMags](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadMags/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rift opened. Cas stepped through. The rift pulsed...  
> The apocalyptic universe our Cas was in when the rift finally closed was a nightmare. After a little more than a week, he managed to find a way to reopen the rift, but when he stepped through, the universe he found was just slightly 'off'. For one thing, Dean immediately kissed him. That was...unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn't necessarily coincide with my crazy parallel universe theories for Season 12 Ep. 23. But it's definitely an offshoot of them.

 

A cool breeze swept over them as they lay beneath the lone shade tree in the private back yard. It was the height of summer in South Dakota, but today had been slightly cooler than usual. They’d taken advantage of it all morning, shirking even the most basic chores in favor of spending time just being together.

Cas was not accustomed to receiving this level of attention and affection from anyone. Ever. He certainly never expected to receive it from Dean. So after forcing himself to get past the initial shock and unease at being touched so casually and intimately, he found that he had zero complaints. It was wonderful.

The only thing that would have made this entire universe absolutely perfect would have been to not have the nagging reminders that this was not meant for him. This affection, this adoration, this love and physical touch...it was meant for someone else. Someone who had a life with this Dean. Someone who’d been killed just a couple of months ago on a sandy beach by a beautiful lake in Washington. Someone this Dean loved with all his heart, whose death had broken him in ways he was not prepared to accept.

And so Dean  _hadn’t_  accepted it. Which is why he was lying there, stroking and caressing the version of Cas that had appeared a week after he’d watched the angel he was in love with die. Because to accept that he’d never hold Cas again, never see him, never hear his voice, never look up and find those blue eyes staring at him adoringly...he was fairly certain he’d never have a single happy moment again in his life. And no, he didn’t think that was an exaggeration. So, right now...fuck reality. He’d take what he could get. Real or not.

Dean took a long, deep breath and let it out. Cas felt his own head rise and fall as it lay comfortably on the man’s stomach. Dean reached down and began running his fingers through the angel’s thick, dark hair.

Cas sighed, relishing the touch. It felt more wonderful and comforting than he’d ever imagined it would. And he’d imagined it a lot. He was certain he could average it out to about twice a day since he’d first encountered this gloriously radiant soul languishing in the depths of Hell, paying a debt he did not owe, for sins that were not his own. He let himself relax further into the touch. His entire vessel felt as though it were melting into the soft grass beneath him.

“You two lovebirds plannin’ on playin’ kissy-face all damned day or 'r you gonna get some actual work done?” Bobby’s voice boomed from the back porch of the house.

“It can wait another hour, whatever it is,” Dean grumbled back at him. Then he thought better of it. “It can right? Hang on…” he lifted himself up onto his elbows and turned to look at Bobby. “What? We get a call?”

“We got  _three_ calls. And I’m glad to see I finally got your attention, princess!” Bobby snarked. “We got two separate calls from two sets of hunters tryin’ to work a wendigo case that went South ‘cause it turns out there were actually  _two_  wedigos that'd joined up and were doin’ their killin’ together.”

“What the hell? They don’t hunt in packs,” Dean said, completely incredulous.

“S’what they say. And they could use some advice. Need some research done to see if it's happened before and how to maybe split ‘em up so they can hunt ‘em individually. Otherwise, they’re gonna need a hand, and that’s gonna be you. So if you could kindly see fit to get off your ass, precious...”

“Ah…” Dean whined. He dropped himself back down and let one arm drape over his eyes. “Yeah, alright,” he answered. He shook his head and groaned. “Fuck.”

“And we got another call from somebody wantin’ to know if a certain Old Enochian devil’s trap is worth it’s salt, so to speak. They’re goin’ up against a fairly nasty demon and they need to trap its ass and get some info before they gank it. They figure they’ve got one shot, so they need to be sure. That one’s all you, angel-cakes.”  

“Ya know, ya keep flirtin’ with him like that, I’m gonna get jealous, old man,” Dean snarked.

“Shut up and get in here, idjits! I made lemonade so your delicate systems won’t collapse from all the hard work.”

“Oh, great…” Dean grumbled. “Come on, Cas. We gotta go in there and act like his lemonade isn’t awful, again.”

“I heard that,” Bobby’s voice boomed out through the open kitchen window. “You’ll drink it and you’ll like it, ya ungrateful brat!”

Dean finally cracked and chuckled.

Cas couldn’t help but laugh, too. He’d forgotten just how sharp and nasty the exchanges between Bobby and the boys sometimes sounded from the outside. It had taken him awhile to adjust and see the tremendous amount of love that had always lain right alongside the harsh words. He understood the humor, now, and found the cranky exchanges delightful. He still didn’t think he’d ever be able to properly join in. It would take an enormous amount of practice for him to get it right, and it wasn’t worth getting it wrong and potentially hurting their feelings. He’d decided to just let this be something he’d observe, and maybe someday he’d...

He shook himself. Not ‘someday.' He wouldn’t be here for ‘someday.’ He didn’t belong here. He was just biding his time until the rift opened again. He knew it wouldn’t be long now. He could feel the energy building...coalescing near its former position in North Cove, Washington. He had two weeks left, at the most.

This wasn’t his universe. The Bobby he knew was long dead. The Dean, Sam and Mary he knew were waiting for him, somewhere on the other side of that rift. He hoped. He shook himself again. He couldn’t allow himself to think that something had happened to them in his absence. He had to believe they were alright - that they’d survived and were dealing with the nephilim. Somehow.

He also hoped that they’d made the correct decision regarding the child. Cas now realized the nephilim may have sent him to this universe intentionally. Perhaps as a ‘thank you’ gift. If that were true, perhaps the child  _was_  good, as Kelly had thought, but dangerously naive. This was not a good gift. This was a fantasy, and as real as this universe likely was, the Winchesters that Cas knew as his family were now either searching for him or mourning him or worse - they had an unknown version of Castiel raising the nephilim, as both he and Kelly had seen him do. Was it even an alternate Castiel? Or was it just some other creature imitating him. He had no way of knowing and that was the worst part of all of this. His family - his real family - might be in danger and they might not even know it yet.

 _‘Family,’_ Cas thought as he once again focused on Dean’s gentle caresses.  _‘Brother.’_  That’s what he was to Dean in his universe. His Dean had made that very clear. His Dean would have greeted his return from the rift with a solid hug and a pat or two on the back. A genuine smile and a pop on the shoulder. His Dean would never have moved from the tight hug to an impassioned kiss, gripping fingers in Cas's hair and cupping his face tenderly. Cas would not have seen the relieved tears and desperate, hopeful eyes, that this Dean had shown him. His Dean...was not in love with him.

When the rift had finally reopened and Cas had stepped out of the apocalyptic universe where he’d spent nearly a week, the first thing he’d seen was the long, rectangular char mark of a funeral pyre on the sandy beach. He’d initially panicked, terrified that the pyre had been for one of his family. But then he’d looked back toward the rift and noticed a strangely familiar, though very faint outline in the sand near it’s base. His entire being had clenched when he'd recognized his own wings. That was  _his_  pyre. Castiel was dead, here. This was not his universe. So...where was he?

He hadn’t had long to ponder that question before the back door of the cabin had burst open and Dean had rushed him at a full run. He’d clung to Cas. Held him tightly. And then kissed him with such ferocity, Cas was too stunned to resist.

When he'd realized Cas wasn't responding in kind, Dean had pulled back for a moment, recognizing that something was very wrong. But Dean made the decision to set that instinct aside. They both knew it was foolish. Neither of them had the strength of will to override it, though.

By the end, Cas had given in and kissed him back. Not a day had gone by since, that he hadn’t kicked himself for letting what he knew was an alternate version of Dean give him what he’d always wanted and could never have. It was selfish. It was wrong. He was using this man’s grief to his advantage and he hated himself for it. But, he could feel Dean's love radiating out of him when he allowed the man to touch him, kiss him, hold him and whisper beautiful things in his ear. Dean’s affection was overwhelming - an exquisite, irresistible drug that was powerful enough, at times, to enable Cas to almost completely forget:

This was not his Dean. 

This was not his home.

This was simply the home he’d wished for.

This was paradise.

 


	2. The Better Version of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has always loved Dean. In this universe, Dean loves him back.  
> Soon, Cas will have to go through the rift to try to get back where he belongs. Back to his family.  
> Which means he'll have to leave this version of Dean...in a universe where Castiel died on a beach by a lake.  
> Neither of them wants to let go.

“I used to see you there,” Dean’s voice broke the stillness in their bedroom.

Cas looked up, startled by the sound. He quickly lowered his phone and turned it off, plunging the room back into almost total darkness. “I don’t understand...”

“That week you were, uh...gone. I’d wake up in the middle of the night, just like this, and I didn’t feel you next to me. So I’d look over at that chair and you’d be there.” Dean wriggled into a more comfortable position on his side. He put his arm under his head so he could look at Cas more easily. “And you weren’t see through or shimmery. You weren’t a ghost or some kinda weird projection. It was really you. You even talked to me sometimes.”

Cas grinned and leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees. “What did I say?”

“Eh...ya know...simple shit. Talked about Sam and Eileen coming to visit again before the baby’s due. What weird bulbs you wanna plant in the fall and whether you’ll be able to talk Bill into special orderin’ ‘em for ya. What type of gun you wanna try target practice with next.” Dean sniffed and cleared his throat. “You were gettin’ pretty good, by the way.”

“Were,” Cas said softly.

“Hmm?” Dean mumbled. He’d let his eyes drift closed again and was resting his head on the crook of his arm.

“You said, ‘were.’”

Dean hesitated for a long moment. “Yeah,” he finally whispered. They were both quiet. Cas fidgeted, slowly turning the phone in his hand like he was spinning his blade. Dean watched him in the very dim starlight coming through the window.

“You thought any more about stayin’?” Dean asked. He was trying to sound casual. Cas could clearly hear the desperation beneath his words, and it gutted him, just as it had every time Dean had brought it up over the last two months.

Cas looked up at him, and then let his gaze drift back out the window at his side. “You mean other than every spare moment I have to think?”

Dean sighed. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Slipping the phone into his pocket, Cas stood and walked to the side of the bed. Dean automatically slid away from the edge, so he’d have room to sit. Cas took the hint. He was amazed how easy this was. How quickly he’d acclimated to this level of intimacy with his friend. He decided to go further with the movement and reached out to take hold of Dean’s hand. The man eagerly complied, and let his other hand drape over Cas’s knee, gripping and massaging the back of the joint and the lower thigh. Cas smiled and let his other hand rest on Dean’s forearm.

“You know...I think the toughest thing for me to get is how that guy can be me, but he doesn’t love you.” Dean brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed Cas’s knuckles. “I mean...you’re sayin’ we basically had the exact same timeline...that I was exactly the same guy, all the way to the point that God brought you back, right after Sam jumped in the cage.”

“Our timelines appear to have diverged at that point, yes.”

“Right. So, that’s what I don’t get. I already wanted you by then. And then you got Sam out and we got his soul back. That only took a couple weeks. What the hell happened to me? Did I take a blow to the head that you couldn’t fix? Or get hexed with a ‘stupid’ spell? How did I just walk away from that? From you? Did I just freak out and turn into a dick?”

Cas snorted and pat his friend’s arm. “It wasn’t you, Dean. We were faced with very different events from that point forward. You and I didn’t have any time to spend together after I was resurrected.”

“Why? What could I have possibly been doing that I didn’t have time for you?”

“You were with Lisa and Ben.”

“Yeah, for like a week.”

“No,” Cas corrected. “You were with them for a year.”

“I stayed with them? What was Sam doin’?”

Cas sighed. The sadness in his face was mostly hidden by the darkness, but Dean could still hear it in his voice. “As I said...things were very different. The danger of the apocalypse wasn’t over in my universe. I had to do some things...things I would never...things I didn’t want to do.”

“Ok...I get that. But it still doesn’t explain why we weren’t fightin’ whatever it was together? What the hell was I doin’ that was so freakin’ important that I didn’t help you?”

Cas looked at him, fully able to see his friend’s face in the dark. He saw the hurt and the anger. The frustration that things had gone so badly in that other universe. And in true Dean Winchester fashion, he was beginning to take on the guilt of perceived mistakes made by an entirely different version of himself. Cas reached up and cupped Dean’s face with his hand. He leaned down and kissed his forehead. Letting go of Dean’s hand, he curled his arm around the man, pulling him into an embrace as he kissed his temple, his cheek, his ear.

“There is nothing that I want more than to go back to that point in time and do it over again. To have you by my side, helping me to make the decisions. I needed you, Dean. I was too foolish...too arrogant to see it then and I tried to do it alone.”

“Why would…”

Cas moved to face him and hushed him with a kiss. “It’s too much to explain, but even moreso…” He swallowed and pressed his forehead to Dean’s. “The way you look at me now…” He kissed him again. “If you knew everything I’ve done… You wouldn’t look at me that way anymore. And I don’t think I’m strong enough to bear it.”

Again, Dean tried to protest, but Cas cut him off.

“Please,” he whispered. “You said you wanted to give me a gift for our anniversary.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. His voice was rough to match the tears beginning to dampen his cheeks.

“Give me this. Let me be the version of me that you loved. The one that didn’t destroy what you felt for him. He’s the version that could even remotely deserve you, Dean. Please let me be him for just a little longer.”

“Cas, there isn’t anything you could’ve done that w- ”

“I love you, Dean. I always have and I always will.”

“Cas- ”

“I love you.”

 


	3. Calling Shurley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas knows he has to try to get back home...to his universe. His family. But he needs to know this version of Dean will be ok.  
> The Castiel who belongs in this universe needs to come back. There's only one person who can do that. And he's the last person Cas want's to talk to. But he'll do it. For Dean.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Cas shouted over his shoulder as he manoeuvred the open laptop and his mug of coffee through the door into the bedroom he shared with Dean.

“Plug it in. It’s almost outta juice,” Sam called up from the bottom of the stairs. “The cord should still be in your room.”

“I've got it, Sam.” He closed the door and took one step, then stopped. He set his mug down on the dresser, turned and locked the door. Letting out a long, shaky breath, he resumed his walk to the bed and sat sideways, positioning the laptop on the blanket next to him.

He had the link ready. He’d emailed it to himself and had the video chat software open. All he had to do was click the link Chuck had sent him and he’d be connected. To Chuck. Face to face...for the most part.

Cas’s mouth had gone dry. He tried to swallow, but it nearly choked him. He had to use his grace to clear his windpipe and unfreeze his throat. It seemed like every muscle in his vessel was misfiring in one way or another.

He held a shaking finger over the ‘Enter’ button. The cursor was already hovering over the link. The overwhelming urge to throw the laptop out of the window and literally flee the house by following suit gripped him and before he could actually act on that impulse, he stabbed at the button.

Seconds later, the video displayed a messy desk, an even messier background, and one arm holding a mug of coffee. Cas realized he had less than a second before Chuck would notice he’d connected to him and would roll his chair over to align himself with the camera. The angel clenched his fists and held his breath. He almost screamed.

Chuck’s bathrobe-clad body rolled into view. He reached with his arm to tip the laptop up enough to reveal his face. A nervous smile lit his expression.

“Hey! Castiel! This is...uh...quite a surprise. I...um...I didn’t expect you to message me.” He fidgeted in his seat and nervously rearranged a few items on his desk for no reason, before reaching to take a swig of his coffee. “It sounded kinda important, though. So, I...uh...wanted to...uh...yeah! So...here I am! What’s up...angel...buddy?” He said the last bit as awkwardly as possible.

Cas was frozen. He’d dropped his eyes immediately when Chuck came on the screen, and the harder he tried to lift his gaze to look at him, the more his eyes fought to avoid the screen altogether. His mouth worked, trying to form words. Nothing came out.

After a long, very uncomfortable pause, Chuck tapped his microphone as a silly joke. “Hey, is this thing on?” he said and giggled uneasily.

Cas again tried to lift his gaze, but couldn’t. He simply nodded in response.

“‘K,” Chuck said. “Um...you ok? You, uh...you look kinda...like maybe you’re...ya know...not.”

Cas managed to swallow, this time. His eyes flashed up to look at the screen for less than one second before they began looking literally anywhere else, once again. He cleared his throat. It sounded very weak, and his head hung lower.

“I-I’m,” Cas stammered, almost whispering. He cleared his throat again and forced himself to straighten a bit. It wasn’t much. “I’m bringing this before you on Dean’s behalf.” He swallowed again and closed his eyes, pushing out the first of what would be a steady stream of tears. “I ask for mercy, Father.”

There was an obvious pause, before Chuck giggled anxiously. “Whoa! Uh...yeah...I, um...I’m not a father. Ya know...not that I know of. I mean, I’m pretty sure…” He trailed off. Cas had forced himself to look up at him. It was a brief glance, but the angel had managed to express a level of pain and sorrow that left no doubt in Chuck’s mind that Castiel knew exactly who he was talking to.

Chuck sighed. “Yeah, ok. I don’t know how you know, but...I mean...clearly you do. Look...just don’t tell anyone, ok? I kinda need to stay below the radar here- ”

“I don’t belong in this universe. I’ve come from one parallel to this one. In it, you revealed yourself in order to face your sister when she was released from her captivity.”

“Ah…” Chuck said with a quick nod. “Well, that makes sense. I think I can probably guess which one of those universes you’re talking about. You went missing from a few of them. Most of you have gotten back by now, though. Not sure what the hold up is on this one…” He drifted off, seemingly deep in thought.

“The Ca- ” Cas said, but his throat tightened again, preventing him from finishing the word. He took a deep breath and let it out. “The Castiel who belongs in this universe was killed two months ago at the entrance to the rift between universes. He died at the hands of Lucifer.”

“Yeah,” Chuck said. He sounded regretful. “Yeah, I know.”

Cas swallowed again. He had to fight to keep from crossing his arms or gritting his teeth or doing anything he knew would be in any way disrespectful or disobedient or cocky and it was killing him. His entire existence, he’d been trained to be terrified and awed in the presence of God - a God he’d never seen or met or even heard before he’d revealed himself just over one year ago. He was almost as frightened as he was angry. And he didn’t want to beg. He wanted to scream. He wanted to wail. He wanted answers. But more than anything, he wanted to give this Dean what he needed. He couldn’t fail. This was the only shot he had. So, he shoved all of it down.

“I...I ask that you have mercy on Dean, Father. He is-” Cas choked back a sob, supremely irritated with himself for breaking so quickly. “His grief is more than he can bear. I fear that this loss is one from which Dean cannot recover.” He wiped at a string of snot that managed to seep from his nose. He looked at it, somewhat confused...unaccustomed to the need for such things as handkerchiefs or tissues. He gave it no further thought, though. This sleeve and part of the bed were already saturated with his tears. They’d been flowing freely for nearly a full minute, now.

Chuck sighed heavily and sat back in his chair.

“Please, Father. If it is your will that Dean should survive in this universe...please. Give him back his Castiel. He needs him.” Cas hitched his breath and barely managed to get the next words out. “He loves him.”

Chuck sat motionless for a long moment, just looking at Cas. He took a deep breath and let it out. Then he nodded. “Yeah, ok,” he said and took a quick sip of his coffee. “Done.”

Cas didn’t respond. But then, his head popped up. He stared directly at the screen. Directly at his Father. Chuck grinned.

“You heard me right. I’ll bring him back. As soon as you cross out of this dimension, I’ll regenerate the Castiel for this one. I mean...ya know...at this point it isn’t even a hardship anymore. I regenerate versions of you so often... I’ve basically set up a template for you. I just change a couple of parameters for each universe and then... Poof! You’re back.”

Cas was still staring at him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t respond. He didn’t know if this was some sort of elaborate joke or if his Father had actually said what he thought he’d just heard him say. His mouth fought to speak, but nothing came out. Finally, after almost half a minute of complete emotional seize, Cas spoke.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Several more tears made their way down his cheeks. He didn’t bother trying to hide them or wipe them away.

“You bet,” Chuck said, not unkindly. He took another long moment to just look at his son. His grin became far less cheerful. “Why don’t you go ahead and say what you really want to say. Ya know...it’s not like I don’t already know.”

“Then what’s the point,” Cas snapped. His entire being, true-form and vessel, shuddered simultaneously. And then he scolded himself for being afraid. He had every right to be angry. To feel confused and abandoned and lost... Then he remembered Dean. “Forgive me, Father.” He dropped his gaze again.

“Nothing to forgive. I get it.” Chuck leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. “And don’t worry. I’m not gonna go back on the promise to regenerate this Castiel because you got a little...snippy. I’m not that petty.” He winced and gave a tilting nod. “Most of the time. Look...son...I know you’re angry that I didn’t ‘give you a sign’, like you asked for. That I didn’t stop you from the course of action that resulted in so much destruction. But you gotta understand...I  _did_ give you a sign. In fact...I gave you better than that. I gave you Dean. And not just once. Over and over again.” He sighed, looking at Cas with all the markings of a frustrated parent. But then he slumped a bit. “But you didn’t see it. And I knew you didn’t see it. I could have stopped you. I had my reasons not to. You just gotta trust me on that one.”

Cas clenched again. Trust is what had gotten him into every mess he’d made. Mainly because he’d trusted the wrong angels, humans, demons...everyone. And he hadn’t trusted Dean. It was the last part that hurt the most. And now his Father was confirming why.

“I never meant to…” Cas drifted, suddenly incapable of saying anything he’d always wanted to say if he ever had the opportunity to say it. “Is there any hope for me?” he settled for. “Any way for me to redeem myself to the angels; to my human family;” he paused and pushed out several more tears, “to you?”

“You made some mistakes along the way, Castiel. And, son, they were doozies. I mean, you’ve always been a ‘go big or go home’ kinda personality. And honestly, I’ve always loved that about you. A problem arises, and if it looks like nobody’s gonna step up and fix it, it takes, like, no time at all before your hat is flyin’ into the ring. It’s the whole reason I worked it out so that you’d be the one to rescue Dean’s soul. And to stick around as their protector and ally.”

Cas was staring at him again. He knew the chain of events that had taken place. He couldn’t see how any of that would have been specifically guided.

“Of course, it was me. I still have my ways to do things, Castiel. I was never all the way out of the game. Just 99.9999%. Or more.  Anyway, the point is...I knew if they had you, you’d move Heaven and Earth to save them. And then they could get on with saving the world. Unfortunately, you didn’t understand that at first. There was...a learning curve for you. I’m just hoping you’ve learned it, now. No more riding off on your own, shooting from the hip, trying to protect them without getting them involved. It just...doesn’t work that way. They need you. And you need them.”

A car horn sounded somewhere outside Chuck’s home. He turned to look and winced. “Ok,” he said, turning back to Cas. “That’s my ride. Gotta go. Look...just...go back to your universe. I’ll put the right Castiel back in play here. Dean’s gonna be fine. I’ll make sure he gets all the info he needs. Just...in the meantime...enjoy yourself a little. Get a little drunk. Eat some pie. Hang out with your friends, here. And make sure you get to North Cove by the time the rift opens. Ok?”

Cas nodded in stunned silence.

“Ok. Great. Gotta go. Bye, son!”

The screen went blank.

Castiel didn’t move or blink or respond in any way at all for nearly ten minutes.

 


	4. Pay Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a summer evening at Bobby's house. Everyone is winding down.  
> Cas lost a bet and has had a very busy day. Dean is still enjoying his victory.

 

 

The news reports were staggering. Cas had rarely paid much attention before now. He’d had little need. He was aware of the wars, the poverty, the injustice and suffering in the world. He didn't need to be reminded that tens of millions were hurting every moment of every day. But here, in this universe, the news was very different.

The anchor was reporting on a celebration being held in a small city in northern Kazakhstan where the very last nuclear warhead had been retrieved and disarmed. Dignitaries from all over the world were gathering to mark the occasion and additional celebrations had been scheduled for the end of the week in cities across the globe.

“Ain’t that somethin’,” Bobby hollered from his seat at his desk. He was listening to the television from the other room, while sorting through his papers. “They’re doin’ one in Sioux Falls, Saturday. We oughta go.”

“You serious?” Dean partially turned to call over his shoulder back into the parlor. “Since when are you into big parties?”

“Since not only do we not have the means to blow up the whole damned planet a hundred times over anymore, but we also don’t have any of the conflicts that mighta tempted the idjits in power to do so.” He shook his head and chuckled a bit. “You couldn’t’a gotten me to believe any ‘a this would happen if you’d told me seven years ago. I almost still can’t.”

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Dean agreed. He turned back to the TV and shifted a bit, letting the arm he had draped across the back of the couch behind Cas move a little further forward. It was just enough so he could let his hand glide lightly over the smooth contour of Cas’s bare shoulder. He was rewarded with a small, almost bashful smile from the angel, before Cas turned his attention back to the computer on his lap.

Dean smiled at him, letting his gaze linger for a long while. It amazed him what a change of clothes could do for Cas. He looked so much better. He’d finally convinced this version of the angel to stop wearing such heavy clothing in the summer heat. He knew Cas could regulate his vessel’s temperature well enough, but it just made everyone uncomfortable to see him in a suit, tie and trench coat. Especially when Dean and bobby were both in khaki’s or jeans and short sleeves.

Cas didn’t particularly care one way or the other. Most angels preferred to wear attire that would make them look the most respectable in whatever human culture they were inhabiting, but he’d begun to realize that living with Bobby and Dean in a salvage yard in rural South Dakota made the suit and tie appear oddly formal. It didn’t blend in with this specific  _sub_ -culture. After a single, brief trip into town with Dean had yielded more than half a dozen cheerful questions from well-meaning acquaintances of the other Castiel about ‘a job interview’ or ‘needing to get a loan from the bank’, he’d been convinced.

Cas’s only insistence was that his torso remain fully covered. The way he’d said it made Dean think there was a little more to it that just preference, but...he didn’t push.

Dean helped him pick some clothes from the other Cas’s wardrobe. The angel now sat on the couch with his legs crossed under himself. He was barefoot, in a pair of loose, thin-fabric jeans and an even thinner tank top that Dean had insisted was a favorite of his Cas’s. This was a lie. Dean had just always found that shirt to be very appealing on him and  _his_ Cas had refused to wear it outside of the bedroom, insisting it made him look like a stripper. While Dean couldn’t exactly argue with that, he also couldn’t figure out where Cas had gotten that idea. Probably from a magazine, though. Dean was still kicking himself for explaining ‘sex in advertising’ to the angel. The sheer number of misinterpretations that had caused over the years...

He let his hand glide down Cas’s arm, smoothing over the skin, pausing where the furrow between muscles created an interesting spot for a fingertip to explore. He lingered over a tiny mole near Cas’s elbow. And then he let his hand move down further, dangling a few fingers below the elbow, just an inch away from the side of Cas’s waist. A long moment passed and a tiny, evil grin started to lift the corner of the hunter’s mouth.

“Don’t,” Cas said without looking up from the computer.

Dean didn’t say anything. Just continued to look at the television. The sound of typing and the small movements to manoeuvre the touchpad slowed as Cas began side-eyeing him.

Dean could feel the angel’s vessel starting to tense - the anxiety building. He had to fight to keep from smiling.

“Dean,” Cas warned. His tone was fierce but worry was bleeding into it and Dean knew him well enough to hear it.

“What? Don’t what?” Dean asked. “This?” He let two of the dangling fingers flick across Cas’s side.

Cas flinched like he’d been electrocuted, nearly dislodging the computer from his lap in his attempt to protect his side. Dean took advantage of the move, bringing his other hand over and repeating on Cas’s other side. Same result. Then in the back of his under arm, the bottom of the foot pointed toward him... He got one last shot in behind Cas’s left ear before the angel planted a solid elbow into Dean’s ribs.

Dean was now the one lurching away and trying to protect himself. The hollow thud was loud enough for Bobby to hear in the other room. Dean’s immediate ‘Ow’ and wincing laughter got the older man’s attention.

“Settle down. Both of ya,” Bobby growled, before mumbling a few select curses under his breath and going back to his paperwork.

“Ah…” Dean gasped between pained giggles. “Fuck...man... That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“I told you I don’t like that.”

“You did...yeah... Seriously, though...you don’t understand how tempting it is.”

Cas shook his head and closed the laptop. He leaned forward to set it on the coffee table and the moment he let go, he snapped his arm back to cover his exposed side. Dean’s hand had already started making a grab for it.

“Come on,” Dean whined when Cas balled up his fists. “You’re ticklish again. You haven’t been ticklish in years. Not since you figured out how to shut the nerves down and be all controlled and boring.”

“Clearly something I need to learn to do immediately,” Cas grumbled. He was keeping a wary eye on the man now, dividing his attention evenly between Dean’s eyes and his hands.

“Well...you know how the other version of you learned?”

Cas squinted at him and then slowly shook his head.

“The trick is to train your brain to ignore the signal,” Dean said, with a twinkling, predatory look in his eye.

Cas clenched his jaw.

“And the only way to do that is to get tickled until you can ignore it.”

“I said, ‘don’t’,” Cas threatened.

“I’m pretty sure I still get to do whatever I want for another three hours.” Dean sniffed and shifted down just slightly into the couch. He let out a smug, open mouthed sigh and grinned at the angel. “And  _you_...have to do what I say.”

Cas gave him his best pre-kill-face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dean said. “You’re the one who lost the bet.”

The angel sighed heavily and turned his glare toward the TV. “You did  _not_ properly explain that bet,” he growled. “It hardly seems fair that I’d have to abide by it.”

“Yeah, yeah, ya big baby.” Dean put his arm back around the angel and pat his shoulder. “Not my fault you suck at bets. Get Sam to teach ya a little about contract negotiation next time ya see ‘im. But for now…’Slave for a Day’ is exactly what it sounds like, and you took the bet and you lost. So...suck it up, sunshine.”

Cas’s face twisted up again.

“I thought it meant to be of service for the day. And that  _is_ what you implied. I didn’t realize it meant I’d have to do whatever you say. I still don’t think it should mean that.”

“Everybody else knows what it means, so...again...suck it up.” Dean reached over and grabbed his beer off of the side table. He took a swig and set it back down, then put his hand back on Cas’s knee.

Cas tensed. It was just a tiny movement, but he knew Dean had seen and felt it. He ventured a quick glance at the man and was immensely irritated to see a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Dean pat Cas’s shoulder reassuringly and decided to have at least  _some_ mercy on him. “Ok. Well...my beer’s almost empty...and I could do with a snack.” He gave Cas’s knee a quick squeeze and his smile got bigger, when the angel clicked his tongue and huffed.

“So, first things first, me and Bobby both need a beer. Then…” he said, letting his gaze drift up to the ceiling, as though giving it deep consideration. “I’ll take a sandwich. Actually, Bobby should eat, so make him one ‘a these, too. Use that loaf of french bread, not the stuff in the bag. Cut it in half across, and then cut each half lengthwise. Roast beef - pile it on there. Um...couple slices of cheese. Onions - there’s grilled ones in the container in the fridge. Get all that on the bottom half of the sandwich and pop it in the oven. Use the broiler. Top rack. About 3 minutes. Pull it out, put some of that horseradish mustard on it and a couple of thin slices of tomato. I’ll take that on a plate with some of those kettle chips and a pickle. Bobby’ll want those, too.”

Cas stared blankly at him...then sighed and slowly rose from his seat. Dean reached over for his beer and quickly took the last swig. “Here ya go,” he said, handing the empty bottle over the back of the couch, as Cas walked behind it to leave the room. Dean heard another annoyed sigh as the bottle was tugged out of his hand. He grinned.

Bobby heard the angel mumbling under his breath before he even saw him enter the room. He looked over the top of his reading glasses, without raising his head, to watch Cas pass by on his way to the kitchen. He made no other indication that he’d noticed him.

A moment later, Cas was setting a cold bottle down on Bobby’s desk and heading back toward the living room.

“Coaster,” Bobby immediately called out after him. There was no reprimand in his voice. It was simply a reminder. Cas stopped mid-stride and Bobby surreptitiously watched as the angel straightened his shoulders, turned on his heel and headed back into the kitchen. He grabbed three coasters off of the table, handed one to Bobby and went back into the living room.

There was a brief period of silence, and then Bobby heard him heading back into the parlor.

“Yes,” Cas called back over his shoulder without breaking stride. He lowered his voice to a grumble. “I think I can figure out how to turn on a stove by myself.” He walked to the kitchen counter, grabbed the loaf of french bread and placed it on the cutting board. Then he grabbed the chef’s knife.

“Not that one,” Bobby said. Cas turned to look at him. “That’s for meat and veggies and such. You want the long one with the little teeth on the edge. That’s the bread knife.”

Cas hesitated for a moment, not sure if Bobby was teasing him. Surely there wasn’t a knife specifically for cutting one food item. That seemed rather finicky. Bobby noticed and just stared at him, looking annoyed. Cas decided he wasn’t kidding and put the chef’s knife back in the wood block. He quickly found a knife that seemed to match the man’s description. He held it up and Bobby nodded.

The first cut crosswise was easy. He figured out how to use the knife to saw instead of slice intuitively. Then he started to cut lengthwise and Bobby again stopped him.

“On it’s side. Otherwise the sandwich won’t lay flat.”

Cas took a moment to process that, then adjusted the bread and looked back at him. Again, Bobby nodded.

Next, he turned on the oven.

“Check there’s nothin’ in there, first,” Bobby said. He wasn’t even looking in the kitchen, now - just listening and figuring out what Cas was doing by the sound. When he heard the deafening silence of angelic confusion, he looked up...and saw Cas staring at him, head cocked and squinting.

“Why would- ”

“‘Cause it’s where most people, includin’ me, store the big stuff.” Bobby stood and slowly sauntered into the kitchen. He turned the broiler off and opened the oven, revealing a large cast iron skillet and a full sized roasting pan. He pulled them out and set them aside. “That way they don’t take up all your cabinet space, when you ain’t usin’ the oven. You always wanna check, before ya turn it on. And you don't preheat usin’ the broiler. Just turn it on when you're ready to put the food in there.”

Cas nodded.

“So...what’re we makin’?” Bobby asked as he bent down and got the broiling pan out of the stove drawer. Cas looked at it, trying to decide if he should ask. He answered Bobby’s question instead.

“Sandwiches.”

“Ok... What’s goin’  _on_ the sandwiches?”

“Roast beef. Cheese. Grilled onions.”

Bobby nodded and pursed his lips, trying to hide an involuntary grin. “Right,” he said and turned to the refrigerator. He began rummaging for the items while Cas fidgeted behind him.

“They’re just sandwiches. I’m sure I can manage,” Cas insisted, suddenly feeling very guilty for dragging Bobby into this. And more than a little embarrassed. “You don’t need to- ”

“Shut up, will ya?” Bobby cut him off, bringing the ingredients back to the counter and laying them out. “Just watch and do what I do and you’ll know for next time...and you won’t tear up the kitchen or burn the damned house down.”

For the next couple of minutes, Bobby went about a methodical tutorial on loading up a sandwich. He demonstrated on one piece of bread and let Cas copy on the other. When they were done, Bobby showed him where the oven mitts were and had him put the pan in the oven and set the timer for three minutes.

“Chips are in the pantry,” Bobby said as he again went to the refrigerator to get the remaining ingredients.

Cas nodded and crossed the room to the pantry. He opened the door and began looking for the chips, then stopped. He looked back at Bobby.

“How did you know he wanted- ”

“‘Cause I know that boy. I know exactly what he asked you to make. I knew as soon as you rattled off those three ingredients. This happens to be his favorite sandwich, but only when it's hot outside.” Cas’s brow furrowed and Bobby shook his head. “Nobody knows why, not even him, so don’t even bother askin’. Just...if it’s hot out and he needs to eat, make him this and he’ll think you’re the best thing in the whole world for at least a couple hours.”

Again, Cas nodded, absorbing every bit of this. He went back to Bobby’s side, bag of chips in hand, and immediately asked about the two jars of pickles on the counter. Bobby explained the difference between a dill wedge and a sweet gherkin. Dean would always want the dill wedge. Bobby wanted the gherkins for himself. Cas eyed the jars like an archaeologist trying to decipher ancient runes. He read every ingredient and memorized the descriptions of the differing tastes Bobby described.

“Still haven’t figured out how to sequester your grace, huh? I mean...that's what's gonna let ya do stuff like...taste and touch and...ya know…the good stuff” Bobby looked honestly surprised, and just a little sad, too.

Cas had no idea how to answer. He wasn’t sure he knew what Bobby was referring to, so he just shook his head.

Bobby sighed and the sadness seemed to deepen a bit. “There’s a book you need to read. I’ll grab it for ya when we’re done here.”

Both of them went back to their sandwich making. They were finished with the oven. Bobby sliced the tomato, then handed the knife to Cas and had him cut a few thin slices, too. This, of course, Cas did expertly. Bobby grinned. “‘Least I don’t gotta worry about you slicin’ your fingers off.” He gave Cas a quick pat on the back.

Horseradish mustard in a line on top, and then the upper half of the bread pressed down. Chips. Pickle. Bobby then insisted on putting two strawberries on Dean’s plate, as well, telling Cas to just trust him.

Cas picked up both plates and Bobby stopped him again. He took his own plate from the angel and shoved a roll of paper towels into his hand. He stepped back, sized up their handiwork and grinned. He nodded and gave Cas another pat on his back. “Good job. They look perfect.”

Cas looked at him for a long moment...his gaze a little more meaningful than Bobby could easily tolerate. The hunter rolled his eyes before Cas even finished saying, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now get back in there and give his royal highness his freakin’ sandwich.”

A look of thorough annoyance crossed Cas’s face before he turned to head back toward the living room.

“Hey, uh...Cas…” Bobby called to him. He motioned for him to come back away from the doorway and then leaned in close to him. “You know why he’s doin’ this, don’tcha? I mean...you’ve figured out this is for you, right?”

The number of squints and tilts that rippled across Cas’s expression gave Bobby the answer.

“Jeez,” the man groaned to himself. “Freakin’ deja vu.” He sighed and looked up at Cas’s confused face. “This is...this is the shit I taught you how to do when you and him first started...ya know...bein’ a couple. It’s his favorite stuff. It’s, uh...”

Bobby began to fidget and look uncomfortable as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he huffed and shook his head.

“Look...you, uh...you ever heard the expression, ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?’”

Cas nodded dutifully. His stare never faltered.

“You have no idea what it means do you?”

The answer surprised neither of them. Bobby sighed again.

“Ok… Just...pay attention to what’s goin on right now. This whole losin’ a bet and the ‘slave for a day thing’... he did it on purpose.” Bobby held Cas’s gaze, while the angel processed that. “This is all stuff the other you figured out over time. Stuff that makes Dean...uh… He’s tryin to teach ya some things you can use. Just...think about what he’s had you do today. The clothes, the different games he’s had you play, havin’ you hang out with him and hand him tools while he worked on the car...and now his favorite summer meal… These are all things that’ll...uh… Ya see... He’s tryin’ to show you how to...uh...”

Cas furrowed his brow and straightened slightly. “You’re saying… he’s trying to teach me how to seduce him?”

Bobby grimaced uncomfortably. “Eh...yeah, that’s probably a little too...um… He’s just teachin’ ya how to get his attention. That’s a better way to put it. Little things you can do.”

There was another silent pause while Cas took that in. His gaze never left Bobby’s face. And then a small grin began lifting the corner of his mouth.

“He likes the way I look in this outfit.” Cas stated it, but looked to Bobby for confirmation.

“Yep,” Bobby said with a tiny grin of his own.

“And…” Cas continued. The grin was increasing as it started to come together for him. “...being with him while he works on the car… he enjoys my keeping him company?”

“Bingo,” Bobby nodded.

“Bobby,” Cas said, shifting uncomfortably. He hesitated for a long awkward moment, before finally deciding he should just say it. “I can’t… um…”

Bobby cut him off, shaking his head. “He ain’t doin’ it for himself, son. He knows you can’t… He gets that. He’s doin this for you. So, when you get back, you’re gonna know how to...uh…” Again, Bobby seized up, searching for the right words. “Look...nobody is gonna know how to get Dean’s motor running like Dean himself. He knows what he likes. And he knows what you can easily do to get that other version of him to pay attention.”

All the fight and annoyance fell away from Cas as Bobby spoke. It was an enormously selfless gift Dean was giving him, and he'd fought him nearly every step of the way. He hadn’t understood. It had simply never occurred to him that Dean would do that. Especially not in a veiled way. He swallowed and dropped his gaze away.

“I feel very foolish.”

“No, now...don’t do that. He knew you didn’t know,” Bobby admonished, picking up his own plate and guiding Cas slowly out of the kitchen.

“Why didn’t he just tell me this is what he was doing? Why...go through all the trouble of setting up a rigged game and a bet?”

“Well, Cas...I could give you a big run-down of all the psychology behind the actions of both ‘a you idjits, but it wouldn’t help one bit and it’d bore us both. So, just know that he loves you... and try your best to put up with him. And keep in mind, you got plenty of your own crazy shit for him to put up with, too. Neither one of ya makes a lick ‘a sense most ‘a the damned time.“

A soft smile spread across Cas’s face. He snorted, still looking directly into Bobby’s eyes.

“What,” Bobby asked, already suspicious.

“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable…”

“Ah, jeez,” Bobby groaned, instantly annoyed. “You’re the same in every freakin’ universe! Just say it ‘n get it over with, ya sappy bastard.”

Cas snorted again and smiled. “I had very little time to get to know you before. I didn’t fully see it. I’m rather ashamed to say I’m only now realizing how great an influence you’ve had on Dean and Sam. Their wisdom and strength...their compassion...even their patience and empathy… I’m fairly certain they learned nearly all of it from you. You were an excellent father to them, Bobby. You should be proud.”

Bobby looked down at his plate. He held very still for several long moments, knowing that anything he said would break the stranglehold he was keeping on his emotions. Tears had already welled up in his eyes. The tiniest crack, and he’d end this conversation a blubbering mess. Cas waited. He said nothing, aware that his friend needed a moment.

Eventually, Bobby sniffed and set his plate down on the kitchen table. He then took Cas’s plate away from him and put it on the table too.

“You piss me off sometimes, ya know that?” He said it through a very tight throat and blinked tears out of his eyes. Then he leaned forward and pulled the angel in for a hug. He held on for a bit longer than he normally would, still fighting to keep himself from cracking all the way. The delay gave Cas enough time to properly position his arms to hug the man back.

Bobby finally pulled back. Grinning at him, he clapped a hand on Cas’s shoulder, then dropped his arm away.

“I’m gonna make Sam teach ya how to give a decent hug, before ya leave. You’re awkward as hell.” Bobby turned and grabbed both plates, handing Dean’s back to the angel. He motioned for Cas to follow him as he walked very stiffly out of the kitchen.

“You’re injured,” Cas said. His brow furrowed with concern and he immediately made a move to approach Bobby and heal him.

“No,” Bobby huffed and waved him off. He continued around to the other side of his desk. “I’m old, outta shape, and I drink a lot. There’s a difference.” He motioned with his arm for Cas go back in the livingroom.

Cas smiled at him again and nodded. Bobby watched him walk out. He stared at the empty doorway for a long moment, then set his plate on the desk and began scanning his shelves for the promised book.


	5. Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is preparing for the journey back to his universe.  
> Dean has been a good friend to him throughout. He's also really worried about him.  
> They've both been trying to deal with multiple elephants in the room, and so far, they've done well. And behaved themselves. But when you have two people who love each other this much, dealing with this much emotional pain...A slip is almost inevitable.

 

 

“You think you’ve figured it out, you mean?” Dean asked, leaning over Cas’s shoulder. The lettering in the book the angel was reading was far too small for him to see from that distance, so he got a bit closer. And then closer still, until Cas grinned and picked the book up and handed it to him.

“Bottom of the page. Furthest column on the right.” Cas said, and then waited for Dean to read.

“Prayer?” Dean sounded incredulous. “Seriously? An infinite number of possible universes and you picked out one set of prayers from one version of me. I mean, my...the ‘me’ version of me.” He winced.

“It appears so. I heard multiple variations of prayers from... _you_ , but...  _yours_ were the strongest. They apparently guided the energy I used to reopen the rift.”

“So what about the Dean where you come from? He wasn’t prayin’?”

Cas shrugged. “Apparently not as intensely as you were...if he prayed at all.”

“If?” Dean asked. He was already starting to sound angry and Cas gently pat his arm, trying to soothe him. Dean was having none of that. “Whaddya mean, ‘ _If?_ ’ You think he didn’t even pray to you? Didn’t even  _try?!_ ”

“Dean, you can’t-”

“What the fuck is wrong with him?! No...ya know what...I don’t care. The son of a bitch doesn’t deserve you.” Dean had begun pacing again. It was rapidly becoming a marker for their ‘parallel-Dean’ conversations. “Seriously, Cas...what the hell?”

“Dean…” Cas sighed. “He may not even know I’m gone.” He realized how that sounded as soon as he saw the explosion that was about to rip it’s way out of his friend. “Because there may be another version of me in that universe! That’s...what I meant. Not that he doesn’t care.” He looked at him, then he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, trying to coax him to relax.

“It’s still bullshit,” Dean spat. “He knows you’re not at full power. You don’t have all your grace - there’s damage to your wings. And what… He can’t spend a few minutes a couple times a day to send you some prayers? Help you get at least  _a little_ better?”

Dean plopped the book down on the desk next to Cas with a thud. Cas gently closed it, leaving the ribbon marker on that page. He leaned back in his chair and watched Dean continue his pacing. After about half a minute, the man stopped, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest and staring back at the angel. Dean shook his head slowly.

“I don’t get it.” He stared for a bit longer, then very slowly made his way back to Cas’s side. He leaned back, partially sitting on the top edge of the desk. “I know...I keep saying that. And you keep telling me it’s not how it  _looks_ …’r  _sounds_ , ‘r...whatever, but… You’re not ok. You didn’t have to tell me that. I can see it. And I’ve been prayin’ to you multiple times, every single day since you got here, ‘cause I know it helps you.”

Cas smiled. “I know. I’m very grateful for that, Dean. It does make a difference.”

“I know it does. And  _he_ knows it does. So why doesn’t he pr-”

“He doesn’t know.” Cas interrupted. “At least...um…” He dropped his gaze to the floor and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m...actually not sure if he knows that. He might.”

“How can he not know that?” Dean demanded. “You can’t read more than a page of any book on angels and not have somebody tellin’ ya that all angels thrive on prayer!”

“He didn’t have the same kind of…time. Or the access-”

“That’s…” Dean cut himself off, feeling the urge to yell becoming too strong. He groaned in frustration and rubbed his eyes. “He had...that whole bunker full of books, Cas. Every one of the books you and me and Bobby and Sam managed to find over the years that talked about angels...copies of all of them were in that library. I looked, when we were there. He had access to probably everything ever written about angels. So, ya know...for a guy who calls you his best friend or his ‘ _brother_ ’...” He snorted derisively and shook his head.

They were both quiet for a while. Dean stared out the window, trying to keep himself from unloading all his frustration on Cas. He knew that wouldn’t be fair.

His attention was diverted by a tennis ball that went sailing from somewhere near the garage into the backyard and a streak of dark brown in hot pursuit. The neighbor’s dog had apparently made the one-mile trek to visit with Bobby again, today. That was becoming a strong friendship in a big hurry. Bobby kept acting like he was annoyed by the hairy beast staring at him while he ate his lunch at his workbench, but that was for everyone else’s benefit. The dog invariably ended up with a decent chunk of said lunch and Bobby always spent at least ten or fifteen minutes sending that ball flying and then giving the drooling monster tons of praise for bringing it back to him. As the days got hotter, he’d started keeping a small kiddie pool filled with cool water for his new buddy to lay down in, after a nice game of fetch. The dog had fewer and fewer reasons to go home, but she always did. About the same time each day. Her family likely went off to work or school and left her alone. Clearly, she preferred to have company.

Dean had made a point of driving by the neighbor’s house a few times, trying to just catch a glimpse of the dog - make sure she really was ok at home. The kids playing with her in the front yard had answered that question. She looked very happy. She was fine.

He looked back at his friend and felt the strong desire to cross back through the rift with him, when the time came. He wanted to confront the other version of himself. Find out what the guy’s problem was. Or just beat his ass. Cas deserved to be loved and this douchey version of himself was fucking it up. It wasn’t ok.

“Ya know…” Dean began, obviously still pissed. “...at the very least the guy could’ve-”

“Enough.” Cas forcefully cut him off. He sighed heavily and sat back in the chair. “You don’t have the information you’d need to pass such judgments.”

“I don’t need to know all the details to know you’re not happy.”

“My Dean...is a good man. A  _very_ good man... And he’s my friend. I will not listen to you disparage him.” There was an edge of finality to Cas’s voice that Dean didn’t miss. Unless he wanted a very loud fight that he would almost certainly lose, this conversation was over.

Dean sighed. It took him a moment to let it go, but he managed it. Mostly.

“So, prayer,” he eventually said, getting them back on track. “If that’s what got you back here, then...I mean, how are you gonna know how to get back to your universe? Ya know, if he’s not...”

He stopped and cleared his throat. “How will you find the right one?”

“From what I was able to find,” Cas said, turning back toward the book and opening it to another marker. Dean stepped to his side again, leaning over so he could see. “It appears the spell could also be guided from the other direction. I’d use the wavelengths of my true form as a...homing beacon of sorts. The base energy signature is specific to each universe. My true form should resonate strongly when the spell’s vector is focused onto the correct one.”

Dean grinned. “You wanna try givin’ that to me in English?” he murmured into Cas’s ear.

The playfulness in that voice, along with it’s very close proximity, would have been enough for him, but Cas also felt Dean’s breath on his ear and neck as he spoke. He instantly blushed, and spent the next several seconds mentally scrambling to regain his composure.

“Yes, um…” He lightly cleared his throat and then swallowed. “Sorry. I, uh...let me…think of a...um...a better...um...” He squirmed and reached up to rub the back of his neck.

Dean’s grin got a lot bigger and he gazed with open delight at the angel’s bright red face. He hadn’t meant to do that. He really had only gotten this close so he could see the book, but he kept forgetting how easy it was to trip this Cas’s trigger. The simplest flirtations, even brushing past him accidentally, would often leave him flustered and nervous. He always tried to hide his blush, his smile, his...other reactions - completely unaware that it just made him even more appealing.

Dean was extremely tempted to continue tormenting him, but he knew that would just be mean. Cas had been trying very hard, ever since he’d arrived, to keep their relationship in check. They’d worked out a plan for handling it in those first couple of days, and Cas had held up his end of it like a champ, staying well within the boundaries and helping Dean to do so, too. He’d been a perfect gentleman. Dean wasn’t going to be the asshole that made him break that commitment.

Also, they needed to get a viable plan together and Cas wasn’t going to be able to even form a complete sentence if he didn’t back off. So, that’s what he did. He shifted back to his position leaning against the edge of the desk and gave the angel a moment to pull it together. He didn’t stop smiling at him though.

Cas’s eyes flicked up to him very quickly a couple of times before he squeezed them shut and forced himself to focus. After a long moment, he finally managed to pull together an explanation.

“Ok,” Cas began, with a strong exhalation. Dean giggled. That didn’t help. “My true form can be thought of as an aggregate of wavelengths that functions as a single...entity. The group can be summarized as one wavelength.”

Dean stared at him. Then lifted his eyebrows and tilted his head down. He was still grinning, but it was no longer because of Cas’s blush. Now, it was because Cas actually thought that would make sense and it was really cute.

Cas blushed again and slumped. He looked around the room and at the items on the desk. In a quick burst of inspiration, he grabbed a whole fistfull of pencils out of the cup in front of him. He took a nearby rubber band and quickly banded them all together into one group.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, ok. Lots of different wavelengths...er whatever...but they’re all part of one big ...wave-bundle. Got it.”

“Alright. Let’s say...that all of these pencils  _and_ this desk were made at the  _same time_ , from the wood of the  _very same tree_. Not just the same  _kind_ of tree - the same  _individual tree_.”

Cas paused, looking questioningly at his friend to make sure he was still following. Dean nodded. Cas continued.

“Now...suppose I didn’t know that the desk and the pencils are from the same tree. Let’s say, I only know that  _some other object_ in this room was made from the same tree as the pencils. And my job is to figure out which object that is.”

Cas reached forward and held the pencils up against the desk lamp. “The first thing I’d do is eliminate all the objects that are not made out of wood. This metal lamp for instance or the glass window panes or plastic pens. That would eliminate a very large number of objects and narrow the search considerably.”

Dean nodded again. Cas stood, grabbing a metal ruler from the desk, and took a few steps into the center of the room.

“This ruler represents the spell I intend to use. It’s the same spell I used to open the rift to enter this universe.” He held the ruler out at the end of his arm, like a sword, pointing it at the wooden bookcase. “When I point this spell at a wooden object, it will tell me if the wood is the same  _species_ as the wood in the pencils. It won’t tell me if it’s the same tree. Just if it’s the same species of tree.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “There’s a lot of stuff made out of the same kinda wood in here, though. That’s not gonna narrow it down enough.”

“Exactly.” Cas nodded, “And that’s why, when I used this spell, I ended up in  _this_ universe instead of my own. This one is very similar to mine, but it’s not  _exactly_ the same.”

“Ok, so...you need a different spell. Something that’ll tell you  _exactly_.”

“Yes. And  _that_ ,” Cas said, emphatically as he stepped back over to the book and pointed to the section they’d looked at earlier. “...is what this modification to the spell will do.” He waited for Dean to see what he was pointing at and then quickly moved back to the center of the room. Dean turned and saw Cas shoving the end of the metal ruler into the tight bundle of pencils. It stuck out several inches from the center.

“That’s the modification? Shove it up inside your true form?” Dean deadpanned. “Kinky.”

Cas was about to point the pencil/ruler bundle at an object again, but stopped halfway. He stared at Dean. Dean didn’t bother waiting for the brow wrinkle and the squint. He raised both hands up in surrender.

“That was a joke, Cas. A really stupid joke. I’m following ya, I promise.” He could see that Cas wasn’t entirely convinced, so he proved it to him. “The pencils...are your true form. The ruler is the spell. And this new thing you’re gonna do will...bind the spell to your true form...somehow. Right?”

“Yes,” Cas said flatly. He still squinted, but decided to leave it. Dean seemed to understand all of this. That was what mattered, at the moment.

“Ok,” Dean said. “You were on a roll and I threw you off. I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean nodded. “Please continue.”

Cas was still staring and squinting at him, but now it was for a completely different reason. Dean had just apologized for confusing the hell out of him when he was trying to explain something. Cas wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that. No one had ever done it before.

“Cas,” Dean coaxed. “Somethin’ in there break? Where’d ya go?”

Cas shook himself out of it and looked down at the bundled pencils and ruler.

“U-um…” he stammered. Again, he shook himself and finally came back online. “Yes, the pencils are my true form, the ruler is the spell. The spell will be linked to my true form.”

“Ok,” Dean said. “So...is that dangerous? Having it linked to the  _real you_ like that?”

“It’s an acceptable level of risk, considering it may be my only option,” Cas said, almost absently. When he saw Dean’s face, he quickly corrected. “I mean, no. No, it’s not dangerous. At all.”

Dean closed his eyes and sighed, letting his head drop down. “Ok. We’re just gonna...put a pin in that.” He said as he rubbed his eyes with thumb and finger. Wearing a very forced smile, he looked back up at Cas. “Continue. Please.”

“Alright...um,” Cas said awkwardly. His eyes were shifting down and to the side.

Dean just slowly shook his head.

“With the spell linked directly to the pencils, I’ll now be able to point the spell at a wooden object and the spell will compare the DNA of the wood in both. So, even if there are several wooden objects that appear extremely similar, only one of them will have exactly the same DNA as the wood in the pencils. That’s the object made from the same tree.”

“Ok, so...in real life, you’re gonna be in that weird-ass apocalypse universe when you do this, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re gonna narrow it down on your own. Then you’re gonna link the spell to yourself and scan with the spell.”

“Yes.”

“And last time you didn’t have the spell linked to your true form, so you had to, what...guess?”

“I…” Cas winced, trying to come up with a way to explain. “It was...an educated guess, but yes. A guess.”

“And...you based that on how loud or strong the prayers were that were coming from the different universes.”

“No. The prayers were what guided the spell toward this universe and a couple of others that are almost identical to it - those with timelines that diverged only days or even hours before I emerged into this universe.”

Dean blinked at him. That was still a bizarre concept he couldn’t quite believe. An infinite number of universes. It just seemed...unmanageable. Like...if it were true, then it was almost shocking that this kinda shit didn’t happen all the time. Rifts and universe crossing and just...chaos. He shook himself and refocused again.

“And...you made an educated guess, from that little group of universes.”

“Yes. And I aimed for one particular universe, based on that guess.”

Dean nodded.

“But...I didn’t make it to that universe,” Cas continued. “I was diverted. To the one right next to it. This one.”

“And that happened because…?”

“Because the intensity of your prayers was strong enough to tug my grace off course. I appear to have been...drawn...to you.”

Dean looked at him. He made several attempts to open his mouth and say something, but all of them failed. He was clearly trying to come up with a joke or snarky comment, but he kept stopping himself.

Cas quietly watched as various emotions made their way across his friend’s face. Eventually, Dean gave up and simply nodded.

“Wait,” Dean said and looked up at him wide-eyed. “Was it… Did I do this? I mean, would you have gotten home if I hadn’t-”

“No,” Cas assured him. “No, I would have ended up in the wrong universe regardless. I was not pointing in the right direction.”

Dean looked closely at him for a long moment, then finally nodded.

“Ok...last thing,” Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If all these other universes were all right next to each other...and if they were all universes that were exactly like this one, but maybe only had, like, a few hours worth of differences…  Wouldn’t I have been praying in all of them? I mean, they’d have been the same prayers. How would mine have been stronger than the other...me’s?”

Cas thought about that for a moment. “Where were you when I came through the rift? What were you doing? Do you remember what you were thinking?”

“I was...uh… I was upstairs. In the cabin. I...was looking out the window at…” Dean cut himself off. “Oh, wow,” he mumbled.

“What is it?”

“I was… This is crazy… I was staring out that window, at the spot where the rift was before. And I was… I was definitely prayin’ to you, but… I was, um… I was tryin’ to sorta...mentally call to you through the rift. Like it was still there. And, uh... “ Dean chuckled in disbelief. “I was tryin' to  _will_  the rift to open...and then get you to walk through.”

It was Cas’s turn to be shocked. He had no idea what to say to that.

“Cas… did I freakin’  _will_ that rift open with my mind?!”

Cas opened his mouth to speak but just shook his head instead, staring back at Dean with equally wide eyes.

“Ok...ya know what? I’m gonna go with ‘no’. I’m stickin' with the first thing you said. It was just the prayers. Calling to you. And pullin' you here. 'Cause... I’m  _not ok_ with me bein' able to rip holes in the universe with my head. That’s just… that’s not cool.”

‘Well, it’s poss-”

“Just agree with me. I didn’t do that. It didn’t happen.”

Cas grinned and then quickly covered it. He nodded solemnly. “It didn’t happen.”

“Ok.” Dean shivered and immediately changed forcus. “So...the prayers. What was different? Were they just louder?”

“Your prayers were constant, and they were sincere… but so were many of the others. It’s possible that you were one of the few or perhaps even the only one praying with great intensity at the exact moment of the spell. But...as with all of the versions of you from this particular set of universes... your prayers were… they were personal.” Cas looked up, meeting Dean’s eyes. “Intimate. That made them very powerful.” He held his friend’s gaze for several seconds, before the level of emotion forced him to look away.

Dean sighed quietly and turned his attention to the large, open windows. A breeze had picked up, moving the sheer curtains inward in a light furl.

“You heard all of ‘em?” Dean asked, a little sheepishly. He waited a moment, then turned back to Cas. “Everything?”

Cas looked up at him and shook his head. “No. They were faint. Distant. I wasn’t able to distinguish individual words most of the time. But the intent was clear… that’s the most important part for an angel. It’s what calls to us.”

“You know...you’ve probably explained that to me a hundred times and I still don’t really get it.” Dean snorted and they both grinned.

“You understand it in practice. That’s what counts. Your  _intent_ was simply for me to hear those prayers... and you were  _not_ going stop until you knew I had.” Cas’s grin became wry and he tilted his head. “Your soul is exceptionally willful, Dean Winchester.”

Dean barked a real laugh at that. “Eh...what can I say...I get the job done.”

Cas chuckled. “Yes you do.”

“I guess I got the right guardian angel, then.” Dean grinned at him then turned to get his glass of lemonade. “Stubborn bastard,” he mumbled. He chuckled to himself as he took a swig and set the cup down. When he looked back to Cas, he saw the angel’s expression had changed. “What?” he asked.

“I, uh…” Cas fumbled. He slowly made his way back to the desk chair and sat. The pencils and ruler were dropped back into their homes on the desk.

“Ah, Cas...come on, you know I’m just giving you shit-”

“No...I know. I...um...you just reminded me of something...someone said.” Cas cleared his throat. “And something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Ok,” Dean said, turning a little more toward him. Cas’s expression instantly made him uneasy.

“It’s actually very, very good news, if it...um…” he said, trying to be reassuring, but knowing he was failing. He fidgeted nervously, and then braced himself and looked right at his friend. “Dean, I need you to understand that what I’m about to tell you… I  _cannot_ tell you how I know it. I just… I need you to…” He hesitated and swallowed. “I know how much you hate it when I hide things...and the problems that has caused, but... please believe me, if there were any way I could tell you I’d-”

“Cas,” Dean interrupted him. “Relax. Jeez.” He looked at the angel until he got a tiny, hesitant grin out of him. “Just...lemme ask one thing, and then you can tell me what you need to tell me, ok?”

Cas looked even more uncomfortable. Dean shook his head and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m not askin’ you to tell me the ‘thing’, just… The stuff you can’t tell me - is it even  _remotely_ possible that me not knowing could put you in danger? Or Sam or Bobby or...anyone at all?”

“No.”

“Hundred percent sure?”

“Yes.”

Dean nodded. “Ok.” He looked at his friend and gave his shoulder a squeeze, before letting go. He brushed his finger fondly across Cas’s jaw as he pulled his hand away and grinned at him. “I mean...yeah, you’re right, I don’t like it when you don’t tell me what’s goin’ on, and we’re still gonna talk about this ‘tyin’ yourself to the spell’ thing but… If you’re sayin’ there’s some really big reason you can’t tell me right now… Ya know… I trust ya.”

Cas just stared at him for a long moment. He briefly closed his eyes, once again trying to process what he’d heard. Then he looked back at his friend. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Dean grabbed his glass again and raised it, pausing to furrow his brow at Cas. He chuckled. “Yeah, man. ‘Course, I trust ya. Why wouldn’t I?” he said, and took a drink.

Cas’s face fell. He tried to cover the reaction, before Dean noticed. He didn’t quite make it, but he was fast enough to keep it from derailing the conversation entirely. He swallowed and forced himself to focus.

“As I said, it’s very good news.” He cleared his throat and a small smile spread across his face. “I have it on very good authority… that when I cross out of this universe and back into my own…” He saw the flinch in Dean’s expression and blurted out the rest quickly. “Your version of Castiel will be regenerated here...in this universe.” He watched Dean closely, waiting to see understanding in his expression.

He didn’t have to guess when that happened. Dean’s expression went blank, just before a multitude of emotions cascaded across his face. Cas couldn’t tell if he was about to laugh or cry or scream, so he didn’t wait. He slowly stood and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Dean, I...I wanted to tell you right away, but I wasn’t certain you’d…” Cas hesitated, then shook his head. “No, that’s not true. I, um… I needed to believe it myself, first.”

“Wait,” Dean said. He looked and sounded like he was in shock, so Cas made sure he kept his grip tight. “He’s, um…  Regenerated? What’s...what is that? You mean...like the way it happened before? At the cemetery?”

“I assume so, yes.”

Dean dropped his gaze down, staring at nothing in particular. Cas leaned a bit to try to get Dean to look at him again. “He’s coming back to you, Dean. Once I’m gone, he’ll be here. Just as you remember him.”

Dean looked back up at him, but still didn’t move. “How?” he whispered.

Cas sighed and gave him a small smile.

“Right,” Dean barely said. “Right...you can’t, uh…  Yeah.” He swallowed thickly and nodded. Then his eyes went wide and he stared at his friend. “Cas, did you find God?”

“Dean-”

“Was it Joshua?”

“Please...don’t ask anything else. I can’t tell you anything.”

“Holy shit,” Dean whispered.

“Dean,” Cas warned.

“Yeah! Yeah, no...uh…” Dean stammered. Then he stopped and just looked at Cas. Cas looked back. Slowly, very slowly, Dean smiled.

“He’s comin’ home?” Dean asked. Tears instantly formed and spilled down his cheeks. “It’s really gonna be him?”

Cas smiled and nodded once. Dean broke. He threw his arms around the angel and hugged him fiercely.

“Cas,” he whispered.

Cas put his arms around him and waited, but Dean said nothing more. He took a deep breath, letting it out with a relaxing shrug. It was good to have finally gotten the courage to tell him...to believe that it might actually be true. He leaned his head against his friend's and gently stroked Dean’s hair.

“Thank you,” Dean groaned into Cas’s shoulder. A single whimper escaped him and after that, he made no further attempt to hide his emotions. He quietly wept, releasing two months worth of desperate fear and grief all at once. His grip on his friend got tighter as he leaned on him to keep himself upright. Cas did his best to support him and said nothing.

After he’d gotten the worst of it out, Dean turned his face into Cas’s neck and kissed him.

“Thank you,” he said again.

“I had little to do with it-”

“Bullshit,” Dean cut him off. “It was you. It’s always you.” He took a couple of shaky breaths, trying to stop crying, but then just gave up.

A moment later, Dean abruptly pulled back, grabbing both sides of Cas’s face and staring into the angel’s eyes. “You didn’t make some kinda deal?” he asked. “Cas, tell me you didn’t sell yourself out! Is that what you couldn’t tell me?!”

The raw panic in Dean took Cas by surprise and he squinted at him.

Dean saw that and nearly choked. “No, no, no, no, god _dammit, Cas!_   _Tell me what you did!_ ” He started out at a murmur and ended at nearly a full scream.

“No!” Cas insisted. He shook his head as best he could, given the man’s death grip on his face. “No, I didn’t! It was nothing like that. No deals or trades or anything of the sort.”

“No deals?!”

“No.”

“Swear?” Dean pleaded. He was still nearly crushing Cas’s skull with his hands and the angels lips were being smooshed from the sides almost to the point he couldn’t speak.

“Yes. I swear. I… Nothing awful. I promise.”

“Fuck!” Dean barked and roughly jerked the angel back into a brutal hug. “Do NOT scare me like that!”

Cas grunted as Dean squeezed the air out of him.

“Alright,” he gasped. He slowly put his arms back around him.

Dean spent a few moments breathing deeply and crushing Cas, before finally getting some control over the adrenaline dump.

“Jesus,” he breathed into the angel’s shoulder. “You’re gonna give me a fuckin’ heart attack. I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.”

Cas moved his hand to a different spot on Dean’s back for a moment, and then nodded. “No need to worry. Your heart is functioning properly. It’s very healthy.”

Dean huffed and then laughed into Cas’s neck. With one last squeeze, he pulled back and once again placed his hands on either side of the angel’s face. He smiled at him, letting his thumb glide across his friend’s cheek.

“Don’t ever change, Cas,” Dean said.

The staring contest that followed went on for far longer than even Cas could bear. He eventually let his gaze drop away.

“Hey,” Dean cooed. “Look at me.”

Cas did, but he was finding it more and more difficult. Dean was looking at him with such intense honesty and trust. He knew he didn’t deserve it and the guilt of allowing himself to feel what he was feeling…

“No,” Dean said, when Cas dropped his eyes again. He took one hand from Cas’s face and put the side of his finger under the angel’s chin, lifting it slightly. “Never change, Cas.” He took a tiny step further toward him, removing all space between them. “You’re perfect...exactly the way you are.”

“I’m not,” Cas whispered. He was surprised he managed to get any words out at all. His vessel’s lungs had seemed to stop working the moment Dean stepped closer. And the tremor he now felt everywhere was making all controlled movements impossible. He swallowed hard and tried to will himself to take a step backward. Dean must have anticipated that, because the man’s other hand came off of Cas’s face and was quickly circled around his waist, pulling him in.

Dean let his gaze roam freely between Cas’s eyes and lips. He nodded. “Yes,” he murmured. “Perfect.”

Dean had somehow managed to turn them during the hug. So when Cas finally forced himself to try to take a step away, he felt the top edge of the desk press into the back of his thigh. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Cas was somewhat startled to realize that his hands had come up, seemingly on their own, at some point, and they were currently sliding slowly along Dean’s upper arms.

Dean’s gaze never faltered as he pressed Cas slightly back, their bodies now completely flush. He breathed lightly against the angel’s parted lips, and waited for something...anything...that would give him permission. He didn’t have to wait long. Cas’s right hand found its way to Dean’s shoulder, and the moment it was in just the right position, Cas sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. A shiver ran through him and when he opened his eyes, Dean leaned in.

They’d already kissed...dozens and dozens of times in the previous weeks. It had always been emotional or thrilling or just comforting. But this kiss...This was different.

Cas had never experienced anything like this. Not with Meg. Not with April. Not even with this version of Dean. He felt his mind relax and his entire body respond with an eagerness he didn’t intend. It suddenly occurred to him that  _this_ is what everyone had been talking about all these millenia. The poetry and music, the desperation and longing and even the violence driven by the intense desire for someone. This...was why.

Cas felt the entirety of the universe narrow down to his own body and Dean’s. There was nothing else. No sound or light. Nothing. Only Dean and the feel of him. His scent. His touch. The way he tasted. The way he moved. The sound of the moan he sent across the kiss, that seemed to vibrate Cas’s entire being, true-form included - in fact, it especially vibrated there. He had no idea what to do with that sensation, so he didn’t try to figure it out. He just let both of his arms wrap around Dean and let them move in whatever direction they wanted, all on their own.

He mentally stepped out of the decision making process and just allowed himself to feel everything. Dean was glorious. Exquisite. Bright as the sun and just as overpowering.

He heard his friend chuckle. It was a light, happy sound that Cas wanted to hear as often as possible. It was beautiful.

He really wanted to smile at him. To laugh. To share the joke with him, whatever it was. But Dean’s mouth was right there. And Cas’s lips were quivering too much to form a proper smile anyway. In fact, he found himself immensely grateful for both the desk and Dean’s arms, because he was barely keeping his feet under himself.

“Cas,” Dean whispered into the angel’s mouth just before kissing him again. This time, Dean didn’t hold back. His own hands started moving with abandon, one of them sliding down to Cas’s ass and squeezing. Cas moaned into the kiss and Dean ground his hips forward, sliding his erection against Cas’s. Neither of them made any pretense of hiding it. The sensation jolted Cas and he threw his head back. Dean took advantage, mouthing over every part of the angel’s neck, before pulling down on the collar of his t-shirt to get at the clavicles and eventually settling in on the hollow of his throat.

It took Cas at least three attempts to get his mouth to form the word ‘Dean’ and when he finally did, it came out little more than a shuddering squeak. Dean chuckled again, letting his smooth baritone tickle the angel’s neck, as he slid nose, lips, tongue...whatever surfaces he could use to make contact along the way back up to Cas’s mouth. He hovered there for a moment and let his lips lightly brush against the angel’s, before pulling back a millimeter or two so he could look at him. He grinned and gently nipped at the angel's chin.

Cas was completely wrecked. His face, neck and chest were blotchy and there were goosebumps everywhere. The blue of his eyes - no more than thin rings. His lips were wet and quivering as he looked at Dean expectantly. Hungry. Desperate. He could barely contain himself and it showed.

Dean took in the sight, and instantly found himself overwhelmed again. He missed this. More than he had realized until this moment. The way Cas looked right now...the way Cas always looked when they took their time and did it right… He had the ability to communicate everything from the basest desires to outright spiritual ecstasy. And it was spectacular.

Dean felt like he’d been waiting years to see him again, not just two months. And here he was, warm and alive and in just over a week, he’d have him back for good.

He was coming back in a week. Cas was coming back in a week. His Cas. The real Cas. He only needed to wait a week...

Dean froze, as realization punched him in the gut. “No,” he whispered. He kept his eyes fixed squarely on the angel in his arms...and he barely breathed.

Cas was still lost in the moment. It took him far too long to realize what was happening, but by the time he did, Dean had already pulled him into a tight hug that was nothing like the embrace they’d just had.

“Cas, I’m sorry,” Dean whispered into his friend’s shoulder as he buried his face there. “I’m so sorry.”

Cas was trying to understand what had happened, but was still coming out of the haze he’d been in...and only beginning to assess what he’d just done. The guilt and shame hit him like a cement truck and he felt the joy he’d just been experiencing whither and then vanish altogether. The hole it left was enormous...and seemed irreparable.

Dean could sense the angel collapsing in on himself and he pulled back to look at him.

“No!” Dean pleaded with him. He reached up both hands and gripped Cas’s arms, willing him to stand tall. “No, no, no...Cas. This was me. This was all me. I’m so sorry.” He held him by the arms for a few moments longer and then just hugged him again.

Cas had stopped responding. He stood motionless for quite a while and just let Dean hold him and talk to him and try to perform some kind of damage control. He wanted to tell him it was ok. To help him to not feel bad about it. To tell him he understood. That the other Cas would understand, too. It was an overwhelming situation. He wouldn’t hold it against Dean. It was ok. It would all be ok.

But he couldn't. He couldn't do or say anything.

Finally, after Dean had apologized for the hundredth time and managed to pull away from his friend enough to see that the angel had mentally checked out, he bent down low, putting his face beneath his friends to force eye contact.

Unable to turn away, Cas met his friend’s eyes and mumbled a very quiet, “It’s ok.” A tiny, forced smile flickered across his face and then immediately disappeared.

“It’s not. It’s not ok, Cas. I fucked up. I am so sorry,” Dean pleaded. “Please look at me. Talk to me, Cas. Come on, man… You’re scaring me a little...here. Can you just...look at me? Cas?”

Cas did as he asked. He looked at him. He’d hoped he’d been able to school his features into a pleasant expression or at least the emotionless one he used to wear. But by the look on Dean’s face, he’d obviously failed. He knew he needed to say or do something to reassure his friend. He just couldn’t seem to make it happen.

Dean cupped Cas’s face with both hands. Tears were freely flowing down his own face now. He knew this was not something he’d be able to fix. Not quickly, anyway, and the pain in Cas’s face was absolutely killing him.

“Please talk to me,” Dean whispered one last time.

Cas stared for a moment longer...and then the smile he’d been trying to find briefly tugged up the corners of his mouth.

“I’m fine,” Cas whispered.

Dean stared at him, waiting for something more. Something else.  _Anything_ else. But it never came.

Still holding his friend’s face, Dean kissed his forehead, and then wrapped both arms around him and held him.

“I’m gonna fix it, Cas,” Dean eventually whispered into the angel’s hair. “I don’t know how yet, but I’m gonna do it. It’s gonna be better for you. I swear. I’ll make it better for you.”

It may have been the words that finally cut through the fog. Or maybe just that Dean sounded so heartbroken. Cas wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, he felt the paralysis in his body lift and he was able to put his arms around Dean and hug him back.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas whispered again. “It’s ok. I’ll be fine.”

Dean just leaned his head against his friend's and pulled him a little tighter.  


	6. S.N.A.F.U. - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rift has re-opened by the lake in Washington. Our Cas is going home.  
> Saying 'goodbye' to paradise is never easy.

 

Cas did his very best to focus on the spell. It was mostly automatic and it would lead him to the right universe without any additional guidance, but he still wanted to make certain it didn't fail. He couldn’t afford months or years waiting for the rift to open again. He had to get home.

Fragments of the cosmos were unfolding before him in an impossibly complex pattern, and under normal circumstances, Cas would have absorbed and studied every detail, relishing the beauty and precision of the Creation and trying to understand. At the moment, though, he couldn't bring himself to care. His thoughts were entirely with the friends he’d left behind.

Dean had stood strong between his surrogate father and his little brother. They both wrapped a supportive arm around him. All three men did their very best to keep their emotions in check as their friend said his final ‘goodbyes’ to each of them. None of them was entirely successful, but Dean struggled the most...for obvious reasons.

In the last moment, standing at the rift, looking at Dean and knowing he’d never see him or hear from him again, Cas could barely keep himself from going back for one more embrace. One more kiss. He wanted to hear his friend’s gentle voice whispering in his ear, letting him know he was loved, and he wanted to tell Dean just how much he meant to him. He wanted to thank him again and again...for everything. Leaving him felt like being crushed from the inside out and he’d realized if he didn’t force himself to go through the rift right then, he never would.

Now, as he stood on the barren soil of an apocalyptic Earth, waiting for the moment he could return to his own universe, his deepest wish was for some kind of confirmation that the other Castiel had indeed been resurrected, as his Father had promised. The tiniest hint before he’d left would have sufficed. A glimpse of a shimmering figure starting to take shape near the cabin, or the flutter of wings out of the corner of his eye. Anything to let him know he wasn’t abandoning Dean to a life filled with longing and pain. Cas knew exactly how that felt.

His eye was drawn to a small spot in the infinite matrix. Segments flickered and shifted abruptly, as though the spell had keyed onto something. It was getting closer. A few more seconds and he should be able to cross back home.

The rift flashed slightly and something small and hard hit him in the leg. He was startled and looked down, careful not to disturb the spell bowl on the ground in front of him.

It was a cellphone. He looked back at the rift, and then at the phone again, and quickly picked it up.

Still keeping an eye on the spell, he let himself glance back to the phone as he rolled it face-up in his hand. He pressed the Home button and smiled when he saw the wallpaper photo. Dean was making a goofy face at the camera. He had one arm slung over Castiel’s shoulders. The angel was looking sideways at him, trying to feign annoyance and failing. It was a wonderful picture. They looked so happy together.

Still not taking his eyes away from the spell for more than a brief moment at a time, Cas slid his thumb across the screen to unlock it. A video was already queued up. He pressed play.

“He’s here, Cas!” Dean’s voice cracked badly as he nearly screamed the words. His face crowded the screen, but he immediately dragged another face into view.

Cas smiled hugely when he recognized himself. A very happy Castiel was smiling at the camera and looking rather disoriented. “Say ‘Hi’ to yourself!” Dean demanded into the angel’s ear.

Cas turned his head and stared at him. Dean didn’t bother trying to prompt him anymore. He just laughed and sobbed at the same time, grabbed Cas’s face, and kissed him senseless.

The camera backed up and both Bobby and Sam came into view. The kissing continued behind them.

“Just wanted you to know!” Sam blurted.

“You take care of yourself, son,” Bobby jumped in. “We’ll be thinkin’ about ya.”

Dean’s arm shoved the two of them apart and he got himself back in view.

“I love ya, Cas. I did then and I still do. You remember that.” He was smiling, but his voice shook badly and he broke down again. “Go get ‘im, Tiger!” he barely managed to yell.

Cas and Dean had a very quick exchange in the background. While Sam and Bobby smiled and waved at the camera.

“Bye, Cas!” Sam said, smiling and choking back tears.

“Be patient with him,” Cas yelled over Bobby’s shoulder. He shoved his way to the front of the camera, wearing his most serious expression. “It may take time. He’s very insecure.”

Sam burst out laughing, then turned and slung an arm around his brother and his friend.

“Bye, Cas!” Bobby shouted. He chuckled and waved again, then the video ended.

Cas realized he’d taken his eyes completely off of the spell for the full seven seconds of that video. He kicked himself for being so negligent, but he was still smiling. He missed them already.

He dropped the phone in his pocket, while keeping his eyes focused intently on the bowl. It occurred to him he should send something back to them. Let them know he got the message. He fished around in his pockets, but had nothing he could give them. He certainly wasn’t going to toss the phone back. He’d treasure that video for eternity. Dean could get another phone.

In a burst of inspiration, he grinned and quickly loosened what Dean had referred to as _'the least sexy tie ever in the history of ties.'_  He pulled it up over his head, leaving the heavy knot in place and used that weight to sling the tie back through the rift. He smiled hugely when the rift flashed and the tie disappeared.

Right then, the bowl sparked. The spell had found the matching universe and locked on. A single cosmic slice began to expand from infinite thinness into a larger and larger plane, aligning itself along the rift’s primary vector.

Cas sighed, pleased that he’d had a chance to say one last ‘goodbye’.

“Be well, my friends,” he murmured, as he watched the universe containing them slip into the void.

He felt the tears welling back up and didn’t bother trying to stop them. There was no point, now. He didn’t need to be strong for anyone. He was certain no one would be waiting for him when he stepped back into his version of the universe. Not after two months. His friends would have returned to the bunker or gone after the nephilim, or Lucifer, or whatever other crisis might be vying for their immediate attention. He knew when he stepped through the rift, he’d be alone.

That thought triggered another aching sense of loss. The closeness and constant companionship he’d experienced over the last two months - the sense of belonging, of being wanted and loved and needed... He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d let it sink in. How much it had helped him to let go of the constant pain and loneliness he’d felt for years. Before all of this, he knew how to survive. He could wall himself off and white-knuckle his way through one task or crisis after another. He was used to it. But now...after this experience...the thought of being alone again...  

The last alignment was taking place just as the contents of the spell-bowl began to dim. Cas stood, readying himself. He grabbed the duffel bag full of supplies and gifts his friends had packed for him and slung it over his shoulder. He wished he could bring the spell bowl with him, too. He didn’t want to part with anything that would remind him of the other Dean, Sam and Bobby.

He snorted and shook his head, surprised by the sentimental value he had begun to attach to objects. It was a very human thing to do.

Unfortunately, the bowl could not be moved until he’d already crossed through the rift. It would have to be left behind.

The rift pulsed - the alignment was complete. Cas shifted the bag on his shoulder and stepped through.

He’d been right. He was alone. The cabin looked empty and there were no lights or sounds, other than the tree frogs, cicadas, and numerous other living sound machines. It was peaceful, chilly, and just beginning to rain.

Cas took a deep breath and let it out. The slight disharmony his true form had sensed during his time in the other universe was gone. He knew he was home.

He shrugged, and looked around. To his surprise, his truck was still there, right where he’d last parked it in front of the cabin. He pondered that for a moment, but the rain increased and he decided he should get moving.

His keys were still in his pocket, so he got in and tried to get it to start. It took a few attempts. The poorly tuned engine was not pleased about coming back to life after having sat so long, but it eventually acquiesced.

He sat quietly, looking at the dash, the steering wheel, the stereo...just taking it in. Almost immediately, he felt a strong urge to call Dean. He wanted to tell him he was home. Wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to see him as soon as possible. To know he was ok. To pull him close and feel him warm and safe in his arms. He wanted to see his friend’s beautiful smile and kiss him until all the stress of the last few days melted away…

He swallowed and closed his eyes, letting his vessel breathe steadily to try and break up the tightness in his chest. He needed to let go of this feeling before he saw his friends. Things may have been very difficult for them in his absence. They didn’t need him falling apart when he finally showed up again.

But, how  _had_ they been? The thought spurred Cas out of his reverie. He pulled out his phone and was very pleased to see he had strong cell reception. He opened his contacts and selected ‘Dean’, leaving his finger poised above ‘Call’...and then he went back to his contacts. He selected Sam, but then changed his mind again and texted Sam instead.

 

        _‘Hello, Sam. Where are you?’_

 

There was only a brief delay before a text came through.

 

_‘Victor, OR  Where r u?’_

 

Cas sighed and smiled, thoroughly pleased to get a quick reply from his friend. Sam was ok, at least.

 

_‘North Cove. At the cabin. Is Dean with you? And Mary?’_

 

There was a substantial delay before the next message arrived. Cas fidgeted. He wondered if there was something wrong after all.

 

_‘U were going to MN? 3 days ago?’_

 

So...there  _was_ another Castiel in this universe. He sighed. This could get very complicated.

 

_‘Was that the last time either of you saw or heard from me?’_

 

The delay was much shorter this time, but Sam was now calling instead. Cas swallowed again. He already had a strong suspicion this was not going to be a fun conversation.

He cleared his throat and accepted the call.

"Hello, Sam.”

“WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!” Dean’s voice boomed. Cas jumped, pulling the phone away from his ear. “That phone was stolen off a _friend_ of mine, so you better have a _good_ _goddamn_ _reason_ it's even in your hand right now!”

“Dean!”

Pause.

“Cas?!” Dean yelled at an only slightly lower volume.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“What the hell…” Dean’s voice trailed off and Cas could hear them shuffling the phone.

“Hey, Cas! Got ya on speaker.” Sam said, sounding cheerful. Cas immediately knew he was  _not_ cheerful. Sam was highly suspicious. Both of them were. “You, uh...kinda surprised us, ya know? You were headin’ the other direction last time we talked.”

Cas sighed. “We...have a lot we need to discuss. But first, is Mary with you?”

“Uh, no...Cas. She’s not with us right now. Listen,” Sam said, redirecting, “we’ve been trying to reach you for a few days, and- ”

“Yeah…” Dean interrupted, “ya know...you go radio silent like that, and I worry. Kinda... half expect you’re gonna show up on the hood of the car again...wearin’ nothin’ but a smile and a few hundred hornets.”

“I… They weren’t hornets, they were bees.”

“Right! Right,” Dean said, snapping his fingers like he’d just remembered. “They were those...weird bees that accidentally got set loose in Arizona.”

Cas squinted. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again.

“I thought they were killer bees," Sam said. "The ones spreadin’ up from Mexico.”

“I have no idea what varieties either of you are referring- ”

“They were the fat ones,” Dean cut him off, “with the...big stinger and a black stripe down it’s back. And they fly real fast.” Cas could hear Dean making motions while he described this completely unidentifiable species of honey bee.

“Those are killer bees,” Sam snapped. “That’s what I said.”

“I fail to see how this would matter under the cir- ”

“That’s not what killer bees look like, Sam!”

“Dean- ”

“What were they, Cas?” Sam asked sounding thoroughly irritated.

Cas sighed very heavily. “The colony I observed and subsequently befriended were European Honey Bees or... Apis mellifera. Specifically, the subspecies Apis mellifera iberiensis Engel. They are not native to North America but are certainly common, considering their great importance to agricul- ”

“Ok. That’s enough. It’s you,” Dean cut him off. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m...at the cabin. In North Cove.”

“You’re at the cabin right now?” Sam asked. He sounded very surprised.

“Yes.”

“You in your truck?” Dean asked.

Cas squinted. “Yes,” he said looking around outside his windows. He opened his door and looked behind the truck to the road approaching the cabin. The moment he leaned out, he heard the familiar rumble. Dean flashed the impala’s high-beams twice.

“We see ya.” Dean said and then hung up. They parked right behind the truck. Cas stepped out and stood by his open door.

“We missed it, Sam! Let it go! I’m not doin’ anything else until I get cleaned up!” Dean barked as he stepped out of the car. “Front door open, Cas?” Dean asked, shutting his door harder than usual. He walked back to the trunk.

“Uh…” Cas fumbled. He reached into the truck and grabbed his keys out of the ignition. He also grabbed his duffel. “I can open it.”

“So, did you see it?” Sam asked, turning to Cas as he closed the trunk. He walked quickly toward the cabin.

“See… Oh!” Cas said, finally understanding what was happening. He nodded. “That’s why you’re here.”

Sam tossed his bag on the front porch and looked back at Cas, exasperated.

“Yes...I saw the rift,” Cas quickly added. “I- ”

“Yeah, of course that’s why we’re here,” Dean nearly shouted. He was standing by the front door, looking back at Cas impatiently.

Sam just shook his head and walked toward the back of the cabin.

Cas hesitated, not really wanting to let either of them out of his sight. He still felt the power of the rift dissipating and there was always the slim possibility of unanticipated danger…

“Cas! Come on,” Dean demanded. He made no effort to hide his irritation. “I wanna get this shit off of me.” He set his bag down and tucked his phone, keys, wallet, etc into the outer pocket. He stripped off his coat and overshirt, then squatted down to start untying his boots.

Cas trotted up the steps and flipped through the keys. When he got close to his friend, he sniffed once and winced. He looked down at Dean and realized there were few places on the man’s clothing and body that weren’t splashed with some sort of blackish goo.

Dean noticed him staring and shook his head. “Don’t ask. We don’t know what the hell it was.” He pulled off one boot and dropped it loudly onto the porch. “Just that it was hissy and grabby and when I kicked it in the gut, it exploded. Even the demons that had us pinned down freaked out when it showed up.” He dropped his other boot and stood, unbuckling his belt and stripping out of his jeans. “It distracted ‘em long enough for us to finally get outta there, though. That was  _the_   _only_  good thing about it.”

“Are you injured?” Cas asked, reaching for him.

“No, I’m good.” Dean looked down at his shirt and sighed with disgust. He pulled that off as well and threw it on the pile. “Just...whatever you do, do  _not_ try to describe what it smells like,” Dean warned, as Cas swung the front door open. “I’ve already puked twice. No more visuals.”

Dean stepped inside. Cas followed.

“So, he didn’t come back through?” Dean asked over his shoulder. He made his way to the table and set his bag on top, unzipping it.

Cas began turning on lights. “Who?” he asked.

Dean let his head roll and leaned forward, putting both fists on the table. He sighed very heavily.

“ _Lucifer!_ ” he demanded, throwing an exhausted and very frustrated glare at the angel.

Cas stared back at him, trying to process Dean’s meaning and the clues from this situation fast enough to answer. He needed to get some information across to his friend. That didn’t seem possible, though. There was too much coming at him. And for some reason, he was having difficulty properly sensing his surroundings. All of the inputs felt slightly detached and two-dimensional. It all seemed to be going too fast, as well.

Dean started rummaging through his bag, pulling out a few items, but then he gave up and roughly shoved everything back in.

“Ya know, I get that Jack needs the...mind-meld things you two’ve been doin’,” Dean said brusquely, closing the bag, “but it’s screwin’ with your memory  _way too much_ , now.” He pulled the bag off the table and headed for the stairs. “You don’t even know what the hell’s goin’ on half the time!”

“Dean, I- ”

“Mom’s  _dead_ , Cas! She died ‘cause she was too close to Kelly when Jack was born! How many times are you gonna make me say it?!” He glared at the angel. “So, NO...she’s NOT with us!”

Cas stared at him in shock for a moment and then squeezed his eyes closed.

Dean waved him off. “But you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do. I’m not gonna keep arguin’ with you about it.” He quickly climbed the stairs. “It’s freakin’ pointless,” he said, mostly to himself, but loud enough to know Cas would hear.

Cas listened to him stomp to the bathroom on the second floor. The door slammed.

Behind him, the front door opened and Sam came in, similarly disrobed. He blew past Cas, duffel bag in hand, and headed for the stairs.

“So, he didn’t come through when it opened?” the younger Winchester asked.

Cas was prepared this time. “No. He didn’t come through.”

“Good,” Sam said flatly, without looking at him, and ran up the stairs. He went into the master suite and shut the door.

Cas stood for a long moment in the stillness. He heard the hiss of water running through the pipes as first one shower came on and then the other.

The grandfather clock adorning the corner of the living room lightly chimed once. Ten-thirty. It had only been late afternoon fifteen minutes ago, when he’d said goodbye to his friends. He was sure they were still standing on the beach, greeting their angel, hugging him, laughing, telling him about the strange things that had happened while he was gone.

Cas’s hand dropped into his pocket almost without him thinking about it. He pulled out both phones - his and Dean’s. Slipping his own back into his pocket, he unlocked his friend’s phone and slowly moved toward the table. He sat in the nearest chair and pressed play.

 

* * *

 

The sealed brick of cheddar, unopened carton of half and half and the salted butter were all still fresh enough to eat, so Cas made a batch of rich, cheesy, instant mashed potatoes. He opened a big can of pork and beans to go with them. Luckily, Kelly had insisted on getting several packages of frozen meatballs, when they’d purchased the crib. There were still two packs left. Cas now knew just how much these men could eat, so he put both packages and the can of beans into a saucepan and warmed them as quickly as he could without burning them. The stove in the cabin was different from Bobby’s, so he stayed close by, carefully monitoring the temperature and stirring…just as his friend had taught him.

The food was steaming hot, as the second shower turned off. Both men had taken much longer than usual to get cleaned up. He didn’t blame them. The stench they’d brought into the cabin was still lingering. Whatever they’d killed earlier that day had certainly been foul as well as evil. He could sense the wickedness in it’s remains, but the smell was just as odious.

He thought his grace might still be strong enough to thoroughly clean the clothing and boots on the porch, without damaging them. He decided to try later. Perhaps after his friends had gone to sleep.

He was setting the plates of food on the table when he heard one of them making his way slowly down the first half of the stairs. The footfalls stopped at the landing.

Cas had re-watched the ‘goodbye’ video at least two dozen times since his friends had gone upstairs. He couldn’t seem to go more than a minute or two, before needing to watch it again. That much repetition made hearing the sound of Dean’s voice coming through a tiny phone speaker a non-event… That is, until Cas realized what he was now hearing wasn’t coming from his video. Dean’s voice was saying something different...and it was coming from the landing.

The instant Cas heard it, he felt the blood drain from his vessel’s head and face. He actually had to use his grace to keep from falling over. He was grateful he hadn’t been holding any food, because he dropped the napkins and silverware in his hands and sprinted to the bottom of the stairs... intending to rush up to his friend, grab the phone and…

He never completed that thought. Dean was standing on the landing, staring at his phone with the same shocked pallor Cas had. After a couple of seconds, he looked at the angel.

They stared directly at one another, frozen in place as the voice of another Dean Winchester continued to share his thoughts.

 

     “...crossing a line. I get that. But we both know he’s not gonna say anything if it’s gonna put you on the spot. He, uh... He loves you too much for that. So…”

            (* _clearing throat*)_

     “And...um… I mean, this is really the only way you’re gonna talk about it.”

            ( _*clearing throat*)_

     “So, yeah. Just get him to give you the letters. They’ll do a better job of explainin’ all this. There’s one from Bobby for each of you, too. Actually, I think Bobby recorded something. I’m not a hundred percent on that. We did this pretty quick. But check the files Sam sent. There’s a bunch of ‘em that oughta be coming through on your phones as soon as Cas gets back in range of your universe’s cell coverage. If you got this one, you should be gettin' them, too. Sam took care of all that, so…uh...”

            ( _*sniff* *clearing throat*)_

     “Yeah, so... Get the letters.”

            ( _*sniff* *long pause*)_

     “Just...take care of him. Ok? I know...things are different between you two...but...um...he, uh…”

            ( _*sniff* *pause* *sniff*)_

     “He’s hurtin’. I know you can see that.”

            ( _*very long pause* *sniff* *groan/sigh* *sniff*)_

     “So...just do me a favor, and, uh… Ya know, if you don’t… If you really  _can’t_ love him...for...whatever fuckin’ reason, man...I dunno...I don’t get it. But if you can’t, then you find a way to open that rift.”

            ( _*sniff* *voice breaks*)_

     “And you send him back to me. ‘Cause I will.”

            ( _*long pause*)_

     “So, uh... So, yeah. That’s it.”

            ( _*sniff*)_

     “You and Sam... You take good care of each other. Ok, man? And you, uh... You take care of our angel, too.”

            ( _*sniff* *pause*)_

     “Ok…”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas really is home. I believe that our Mary died in our universe in the season 12 finale and the one who beat up lucifer is a different mary. I have several Tumblr posts supporting the idea of parallel universes and character swapping. That's where this idea is coming from.
> 
> There are quite a few scenes that I intended to write that would fit between 'Prayer' and this installment, but I was getting myself too sad thinking about all of this and just needed to get Cas back home.


	7. S.N.A.F.U. - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the video from parallel-universe-Dean.  
> Lot's and lots of talking.  
> Prepare yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Star Wars’, George Lucas, 1977  
> ‘The Twilight Zone’, Rod Serling, 1959-1964
> 
>  
> 
> This is it, folks. The last chapter in this series. I'd love to keep writing this, but I have to get back to The Tether. It's killing me that I'm not getting that done.  
> I really hope you find this ending satisfying. Thanks again for putting up with the crazy format and for all your wonderful and supportive comments. You folks are the best!  
> *smooch*

The wind picked up. There was a storm moving in from the coast and the gusts made the cabin’s old wooden siding creak ominously.

Sam had escaped the staggering discomfort he’d walked in on half an hour ago, by starting a small fire in the hearth. It was still summer, but the storm brought with it a chill that warranted at least some heating. Especially with the wind moaning through small gaps in the old windows.

The three of them sat at the table in silence, their unease growing with each scrape of silverware against a plate. When the grandfather clock began to gently chime eleven o’clock, it seemed far too loud. By the seventh or eighth chime, it had become grating. Sam sighed and cleared his throat.

“So you were there the whole time?” he asked Cas, very quietly. He waited for the angel to answer, but when Cas continued to stare numbly at the unlit cell phone lying on the table in front of him, Sam went back to finishing his dinner.

“After the first week,” Cas eventually said, barely above a whisper. “I was in the alternate universe you saw, for the first week. I went to the second universe after that.”

“You used a spell to direct the rift, when it opened?”

“Yes.”

Sam nodded and moved a meatball around on his plate with his fork. He eventually remembered that he should eat it.

They sat there for several more minutes without a word. At one point, Sam caught Dean’s eye. The two of them shared a very long look, after which Sam sped up his eating considerably, and then took his plate to the sink.

“Ok,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Looks like the world isn’t gonna explode in the next few hours after all, so...I’m gonna turn in.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brother preparing to get up. He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder and pushed down, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Dean stayed still.

Sam started to turn toward the stairs, but thought better of it. He moved over to his friend’s side, instead.

“Glad you’re back, Cas,” he said, giving him a light pat on the back.

Cas turned his shell-shocked expression to the young man and did his best to grin. It didn’t work. He looked horrible.

Sam managed a small smile. He pat Cas’s shoulder, and then Dean’s, as he walked past and went up the stairs.

“Night, Sam,” Dean called after him.

“Night, guys.” Sam said from the upper floor.

After a short pause, Dean grabbed his glass of water and chugged down the remainder. He sighed and wiped his mouth.

“The food was good, Cas. Thanks,” he mumbled.

Cas didn’t respond. Or move. He didn’t even blink.

Dean just sat with him for several minutes, staring at nothing in particular. Gusts from the storm outside blew dried pine needles against the cabin, creating an eerie hiss. The only other sound was the ticking of the clock. Even Sam’s movements upstairs had stopped.

Eventually, Dean rose, taking his plate to the sink and washing up. He dried his hands and looked in a few cabinets. Then he opened the refrigerator. No beer. He sighed, then grabbed two cans of Coke and brought them back to the table. He set one in front of Cas and slowly sat back down.

They both stayed almost completely still for a couple of minutes, not even opening the cans. Eventually, Dean popped his open. The sound was enough to jar Cas out of his stupor. He reached out slowly and opened his own can, bringing it to his lips for a sip. He winced at the taste and set the can back down on the table.

“Think I saw a bottle of wine in there,” Dean said. He saw Cas move in his peripheral vision and he looked up at him. They made eye contact...finally. Cas nodded. Dean fetched the bottle and two glasses. “Come on,” he mumbled, motioning toward the couch.

Cas abandoned the can of soda on the table and followed his friend. He sat next to him, as Dean poured half a bottle each into the large water glasses he’d chosen. He handed one to Cas and then began a solid attack on his own. It was half gone after one extended swig.

“She was a remarkable person,” Cas said, staring into his glass. “I’m grateful I had the chance to know her...no matter how briefly.”

Dean took another swig. He reached up and scratched at the stubble on his jaw and then just nodded.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Cas began.

“Let’s just...not…” Dean cut him off, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. He sighed heavily and looked over at his friend. “Not now,” he finished, much more calmly. Cas nodded and went back to staring at his wine.

Dean cleared his throat, and let his gaze settle on the small fire. He’d need to put a bit more wood on there if they wanted it to last, but he just didn’t care enough to move. He took another sip or two of the wine, letting the silence linger for awhile.

He could have kept it that way all night. He could just sit quietly or talk about anything other than the elephant in the room and Cas would follow along. It was tempting. He had no idea what to do with any of this.  

“He mentioned letters?” Dean forced himself to ask, before he lost his nerve.

Cas nodded and reached across the coffee table for his duffel bag. Dragging it close, he opened it. The letters were right on top. Each envelope was clearly labelled with the intended recipient.

He pulled them out and sorted them into three stacks: ‘Dean’, ‘Sam’, and both. He paused when he got to the last one. It was labelled ‘Cas’.

He stared at it for a long moment, wondering what could possibly have been left unsaid. Dean had shared so much with him. They’d talked many, many times, often for hours on end, especially in the last week. He’d told him anything and everything the moment it had come to mind. Nothing was held back.

All of their conversations had hurt in one way or another. Even so, when Cas had stood at the threshold of the rift, looking back, he would have given almost anything to spend a few more minutes with Dean in that universe. It was only after he’d crossed through the rift that he’d managed to get himself into the mental space of understanding that there would never be any more communication. He’d accepted it.

Now, knowing there  _would_ be further communication, he was finding it much more difficult to keep his feelings in check. He wanted to leave the room and read the letter immediately. He also wanted to shove it to the very bottom of the bag and forget it existed. When he turned the envelope over, the words on the back, written in Dean’s unmistakable printed scrawl, made the decision for him. He pushed it slowly down along the inside of the bag.

“Not gonna read it?” Dean asked.

“It’s says I should open it in private,” Cas answered quietly and then took a long drink from his glass.

Dean nodded and finished off the last gulp of his wine. He set the glass down and reached for his own pile, slowly scooting it toward his side of the table. With only a moment’s deliberation, he tapped his finger lightly on the stack and then pulled his hand away.

“Prob’ly a good idea,” Dean said. He cleared his throat again and motioned toward the bag. “What else they send home with ya? From the universe far, far away?”

Cas set down his glass and reached into the bag.

“The separation of parallel universes has nothing to do with distance,” he began, but then he opened his mouth in a silent ‘Ah’ and nodded. “You were...um...referencing Star Wars.”

He began unpacking. The other Dean had put all of the clothing at the top of the bag, so Cas started by pulling out a shirt...and then another shirt...and another. They were crisp button-downs in saturated colors - gun metal grey, eggplant, royal navy blue. The next one was bright white. Another, in a pale cream. Three more in vivid plaids. A stack of soft-looking t-shirts and henleys. Several pairs of jeans. Two pairs of shoes. A really good pair of dark brown boots.

“Jeez,” Dean said, looking at the spread on the coffee table. He had to move his letters and his drink out of the way just to make room. “Did they think we were gonna send ya back to school naked?”

“He went a bit overboard,” Cas said, and then turned a confused look to his friend. “I don’t need...why would they think I’d be going to a school?” Dean started shaking his head halfway through the question and waved to indicate Cas should just keep going.

“I tried to remind them that I don’t require additional clothing, but all three of them insisted I should have more. Well...actually, they said  _‘different’_ clothing. Sam strongly recommended that I change into something else, once I arrived home and the two of you established it was really me.” He looked over at his friend and grinned. “Dean said I should ‘salt and burn’ this entire outfit.”

Dean snorted. “Well, don’t burn the suit,” he said as he picked up one of the shirts and eyed it appreciatively. They’d definitely picked out decent stuff for him. “You’re still gonna need that some...times...” As he was saying it, Cas pulled out a very nice suit jacket, pants, and vest and laid them on the table. Dean blinked and pursed his lips. “Ok, then.”

“Oh!” Cas said, sounding very surprised, as he pulled out the next item. He stood and let the long, tan trench coat unroll, holding it out in front of him. “Oh, no,” he chuckled.

“Hey!” Dean drew the exclamation out. “It’s Old Faithful!”

Cas groaned. “I fear the other version of me may not be too happy about this.” He stared at the coat for just a moment longer. Then his smile grew. He wriggled out of the coat he was wearing and put the other one on.

“Let’s see,” Dean said, tapping Cas’s arm to get him to turn. He did and they both smiled broadly.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that one’s better.”

Cas was still grinning as he fussed with the garment for a moment, getting it properly settled. “I grew quite fond of this coat very early on. It vaguely reminded me of my time in a former vessel. She had long fur on her back and sides. The weight and movement felt somewhat similar to this.”

“You...,” Dean began, squinting. Then he just shook his head and blinked. He was way too tired to listen to the angel explain that.

Cas sat back down and continued unpacking.

Two jackets, two sweaters, two vests, five ties, a bag of assorted socks, underwear and pajama bottoms, and a thin, black tank top. That was the last of the clothing.

Dean looked at the still-half-full duffel bag and shook his head.

“This,” Cas said excitedly, as he pulled out something wrapped in a heavy chamois, “is a gift for you. From...you. The other you.” He handed it very carefully to his friend.

Dean eyed it suspiciously as he took it. Cas had a rare glint in his eye, so this gift was either something really awesome or his friend had just handed him the weirdest piece of random shit he’d ever see in his life and he’d have to act grateful to keep from hurting his feelings. He prepared himself for either possibility.

Whatever the gift was, it had an odd shape. It was heaviest on one end and the way it sat in his hand felt really familiar. Kind of like…

“Holy shit,” Dean whispered. His eyes were huge before he’d even finished unwrapping it.  When the last fold of leather fell away, he stared in disbelief at the ornate, long barrelled gun in his hand.

“Is this… It’s the Colt? The real one?” Dean’s energy level jumped. He was suddenly wide awake and sitting upright on the edge of the couch cushion. In his excitement, he nearly forgot to ensure the gun wasn’t loaded before he started fawning over it and unabashedly feeling it up. He couldn’t believe he’d ever have this kind of luck.

“It is. If our timelines did indeed diverge  _after_ Stull Cemetery, then this is literally the exact gun you dropped in that field in Carthage, Missouri.”

Dean squinted, looking at the angel incredulously for a moment. “That can’t... How can the same gun be a melted mess back at the bunker, but I’m holding it in my hand right now and it’s still in perfect shape?”

“Parallel universes are meant to be completely separate, once created. Information and matter do not cross between them. You are right to be confused. What you have in your hand should not exist. Not in this universe.” He nodded and his tone shifted slightly. “What I experienced in the last two months should not have been possible, either. You and I are witnesses to the extreme power this nephilim is able to wield.”

Dean swallowed as the implications of Cas’s words sparked every part of his imagination in the worst possible ways. Rifts opening between all the universes - anything and everything pouring through from one to the other until every universe was jumbled into utter chaos. It was horrifying...the most nightmare-ish episode of The Twilight Zone ever. He shut that thought process down immediately.

“I shared with him...the  _other_   _you_...about our universe. I told him things had become even more dangerous after the initial threat of the apocalypse had passed. He didn’t need me to tell him an item like the Colt would be invaluable to you, here.” Cas grinned, watching his friend stare reverently at the gun. “I’m sure you can understand it wasn’t easy for him to part with it. He’d only recently re-acquired it and was quite infatuated.” He snorted a quick laugh. “Just as you are now.”

Dean spared a quick look at him, then turned back to the gun. He wasn’t embarrassed. He’d make out with that little beauty all night. He didn’t care who saw him do it.

“When I mentioned our version of it had recently been destroyed,” Cas continued, “it took less than a minute for him to decide to let it come back with me. Which...wasn’t really a surprise. He is  _you,_ after all.  _Of course_ you’d sacrifice something you wanted in order to help save others. Even so...I was proud of you. As always.” Cas was looking directly at Dean now. “I regret that you’ve been forced to do that so often, my friend.”

It didn’t bother or surprise Cas that Dean wouldn’t look at him. He knew he had difficulty accepting praise. Not wanting to let the discomfort continue, Cas turned his attention back to the bag and pulled out another item.

“This,” Cas said, handing Dean a scroll of thick paper tied with a ribbon, “is for Sam, but D- the  _other_ you, wanted me to make sure you saw it too.”

Dean put the Colt back into his chamois on the coffee table and took the scroll. He carefully untied the ribbon and scooted some things out of the way, so he could roll the paper out.

“Oh, man…” Dean mumbled when he saw what it said.

“Sam was...um...the other Sam...was hopeful that... _our_ Sam would accept this in the spirit in which it was given. He knew it might be painful for him, but...he thought perhaps Sam might like to have confirmation that he is, indeed, capable of this achievement...given the opportunity.”

Dean stared at the document for a long time, letting his finger lightly trace over the name in the center.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, grinning. He sniffed lightly and cleared his throat. “The trustees and faculty of the university, by virtue of the authority vested in them, have conferred on Samuel Winchester, who has satisfactorily pursued the studies and passed the examinations required therefor, the degree of Juris Doctor.” An enormous smile spread across his face. “He did it.”

“He did,” Cas confirmed.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean repeated, chuckling. “Atta boy, Sammy.” He smoothed the document lightly with one hand, making sure he could see the whole thing. A moment later, he very carefully rolled it back up and tied the ribbon around it. At least one tear had made its way down his cheek and he reached up to wipe it away. He set the diploma on top of Cas’s nice suit, making sure it was well away from the gun and the wine glasses. He sniffed and wiped his face again.

Cas handed him one of the pairs of socks laid out on the table. “I don’t remember placing any tissues down here. They’re all upstairs, in the nursery or Kelly’s room.”

Dean looked at the socks, then Cas’s very sincere face and back at the socks. He smile got bigger and he chuckled again.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the dark navy fabric. He shrugged, still grinning, and wiped his face.

“I believe the remaining items are all copies of books and files. Information they’d found over the last few years that they thought you might need.” Cas dug through the bag, fishing around through an enormous stack of papers, envelopes, and DVDs in jewel cases. He also pulled out a large, accordion file with a few manilla envelopes inside. Dean took that from him and dug briefly though. When he saw an envelope labelled ‘Pictures’, he pulled it out.

That folder contained what looked like more than half a ream of photographs printed onto copy paper. Many of them were ones Dean recognized as family photos and pictures of him and Sam as kids. They’d been in albums and frames at Bobby’s house. All of them had been lost in the fire.

“Wow,” Dean said, flipping through them and grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, man...this is,” he paused and shook his head. “This is great, Cas.”

Cas stopped fishing around in the bag long enough to smile at his friend.

“Huh,” Dean grunted. He pulled a second, much slimmer envelope from the stack of photos. It was labelled ‘Dean’.

“What’s that?” Cas murmured. He was asking Dean but seemed to be mostly speaking to himself.

Dean had already opened the envelope and was looking at the first photo by the time it occurred to Cas what they might be. The angel’s face went ashen again and he had to stop himself from snatching the bundle away from his friend.

The first ones were innocuous: group photos at sporting events, restaurants, bars, parties at the homes of people Dean didn’t recognize, but were clearly friends of the other Singer/Winchester clan. He and Cas were in all of them, sometimes sitting close, leaning into one another. When they were together, the two of them were always beaming at the camera.

Dean almost stopped flipping through them, too tired to take a trip down memory lane with photos from a different Dean’s life. But the next photo was of all four of them - Sam, Cas, Bobby and himself. They were in very dapper suits, but had their jackets off. Their white shirts blazed brightly in the camera flash - a stark contrast to their dark vests and pants. They appeared to be attempting an awkward rendition of the Electric Slide, leaning down and forward in unison. The humans were sweaty and red faced, like they’d had plenty to drink already and this was not the first dance of the night. Cas, of course, still looked fresh and cool. All four were smiling from ear to ear.

Dean smiled, too. Seeing all of them having a good time, relaxed and happy...it was so rare. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t happened in this universe. The fact that it had happened anywhere was good enough.

He realized, as he looked through the next few pictures, Cas was wearing the same suit that was currently sitting below the diploma on the coffee table. He grinned again, piecing the clues together.

“So...Sammy got married.” He stated it, not really needing to ask. The photos were clearly of a wedding reception. The decorations in the background confirmed it. He was skimming through the photos a bit quicker, now, stopping to smile at the crazy pics of the four of them. He started to wonder what Sam’s wife looked like. He hadn’t seen a bride in any of the photos yet.

Cas swallowed and grabbed his wine. “Yes. Sam married,” he said quietly before chugging the remainder. He wiped the edges of his mouth with his hand. “But those...um...those photos are of a...um...different…” He stopped when he saw the photo Dean was looking at. His friend was staring, motionless and apparently in shock.

“I’m sorry,” Cas whispered. “I didn’t know he’d...I didn’t realize he’d sent those. I would have...um…”

Dean wasn’t listening. Instead, he was very slowly looking through the next ten or so photos. It was now abundantly clear why Sam had been dancing with Eileen in several of the previous pictures. (He found it interesting that Sam had managed to meet her in that universe, too, but it was a thought for another time.) Dean had already assumed she wasn’t the bride. She was in a lovely blue dress, not a wedding gown.

He was right. In fact, there was no bride at all. These photos showed Sam on the stage in a wedding ceremony, but in the position of Best Man, at Dean’s side. Dean was in the center and Castiel was holding his hands, facing him, smiling gently and staring at him with all the adoration and affection the angel had so often shown him in the past. Sam was staring at both of them. His eyes were red and wet, and his expression shamelessly dopey.

Bobby was standing at Cas’s side, clearly  _his_ Best Man - though, Dean had to admit, he wasn’t exactly sure how the arrangements normally went when it was two grooms and no bride. He assumed it would be close to the same.

He continued to look through the pics, almost in a trance. Just as he decided he should stop, he let his thumb flip the page to one more picture.

Cas was alone, sitting on a pile of rumpled sheets and blankets in Dean’s old room at Bobby’s house. The bed had been pushed against the wall, right under the window and he was leaning his shoulder on the wood trim, gazing serenely out over the salvage yard. It looked like early morning. The sunlight only brightened the area near the window. The rest of the room was still dim. He was naked, his legs tucked up loosely with one thigh high enough to keep the photo modest. The soft light shone on his skin, giving his face and body a subtle glow. It accentuated the auburn and gold highlights in his dark hair, which was even more of a mess than usual - all spikes and pillow-crushed tufts. He looked happier and more at peace than Dean had ever seen him. He was beautiful.

Dean stared at the photo for several long moments, before gently closing the stack. He slipped them back into the envelope, and then set it on top of his letters.

A sniff broke his reverie. He worked up the courage to look over just as the angel closed his eyes, sending a cascade of tears down his cheeks. Cas sniffed again...then reached for a pair of socks.

Dean sighed quietly. He was still fighting through his own shock, but it was pretty clear to him that Cas’s stash of socks wasn’t going to be enough, if they both turned on the water works. He slowly stood and walked to the kitchen counter.

Cas sat quietly, staring at his own hands in his lap. He heard and felt Dean return to the couch and then a roll of paper towels appeared in his peripheral vision. He took them without looking at his friend.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered back. He stood in front of his spot on the couch, unable to relax enough to sit. He spent a long, awkward moment staring blankly at his stack of envelopes on the coffee table, before deciding now would be a good time to stoke the little fire... Fastidiously... For far longer than was necessary.

Cas looked up to stare at Dean’s back, from time to time, but mostly kept his gaze down. Eventually he broke the silence.

“Why-” Cas began, but had to stop to clear his throat. He sniffed again and tore off another paper towel. “Why did Sam say he was in Oregon...when I inquired?”

Dean put one more small log onto the fire and pushed it into position with the poker while he thought back, trying to place the question in context. Then he caught on.

“We didn’t know it was you.” He prodded the fire a couple of times and then placed the poker in it’s stand and walked back to the couch. “It was comin’ from your old phone, but... you’d...I mean, the other you... told us he lost it.” He sighed heavily as he sat, and let out a soft groan. “He told us a lotta shit. I guess we really need to rethink all of it. I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on, now.”

“Have you been able to establish if he really is an angel? If he is, indeed, another version of me?”

“Honestly...it didn’t occur to us,” Dean said, leaning back fully into the seat. “I mean, I knew when Jack did whatever he did to you at the playground that somethin’ was up, so the weirdness was… I dunno. We kinda accepted it. But...the whole idea that maybe it wasn’t you at all… We didn’t…”

“It’s understandable,” Cas gently cut him off.

“It’s not like I didn’t notice...is what I mean.” Dean looked over at him. His expression was suddenly much more intense and he waited until the angel was looking him in the eye. “I noticed, Cas.”

The experience of deja-vu was overwhelming. Cas had seen the same expression so many times on the face of the other Dean. Seeing it here, in this universe was making it difficult for him to believe he really was back. He knew what that expression had meant when the other Dean had worn it. He wanted it to mean the same thing, here...wanted it badly enough to allow himself a glimmer of hope...which he immediately squashed. He knew better.

Whether they were the same or not, the emotions Dean was conveying threatened to break the control Cas had regained over himself. He dropped his gaze.

“I was curious to know what you’d determined about him. No one would expect you to have known I was pulled into a parallel universe. The likelihood of that happening…”

“Uh, yeah. Didn’t see that one comin’,” Dean agreed with a small grin. Cas looked back up at him. He snorted, then sniffed and wiped his nose again.

“So, the confusion with the bees...that was also an attempt to verify my identity?”

Dean nodded.

Cas continued. “You mentioned… this  _other_ Castiel… Jack has needed to perform ‘mind-melds’ with him? Was that an attempt at a literal description or were you- ”

“Yeah,” Dean answered. “They’ve, uh...they’re doin’ these weird rituals. Cas...the other Cas...puts his hand on Jack’s chest and recites some...chant.”

“Enochian?”

“No, that’s the thing,” Dean said, finally looking over at his friend. “We don’t know what language it is. Sam didn’t like the looks or sounds of it, either. He got a video, without either of ‘em noticing, but we still don’t know what it is.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, pulled up the short video and played it.

“Hmm,” Cas grunted.

“You recognize it?”

“The language, yes. Not the ritual. It's a distinct tribal language that was spoken by a relatively small population, prior to the development of classical Sumerian. Some of it was absorbed into the main vernacular, but the language itself was lost. I doubt your scholars know it ever existed.”

“Got any idea what they’re doin’?” Dean took his phone back and slipped it into his pocket.

“I believe your chosen description of ‘mind-meld’ may be quite accurate. This...other Castiel...appears to be executing a full transfer of thoughts and memories. You said they’ve done this on several occasions?”

“Yeah, about twice a week, we think,” Dean nodded. “‘Least that’s what it was like at the beginning. You… _He_...took Jack and split after about three weeks. We’ve been tryin’ to keep in contact, but he hasn’t made it easy.”

“Hmm…” Cas grunted. “Perhaps he’s doing the transfer in small batches. This ritual seems to be focused on enhancing the realism and detail of the memories.” The furrow in Cas’s brow deepened and he leaned back in his seat, matching Dean’s position. He stared at the ceiling...thinking. “It’s rather worrisome. I suspect a desire on his part to control not only the information that’s being imparted but also the way that information is perceived by the nephilim.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Dean moaned.

“No, it doesn’t.” Cas breathed deeply and sighed. “It is possible, of course, that the intentions of this...other Castiel...are good, but- ”

“But when does good shit ever happen to us?” Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Also, it’s unlikely this is a parallel version of... _me_. I sincerely doubt this creature is an angel.”

“What’re you thinkin’ he is? Or,  _it_ is?”

“There’s too little information, but in a ritual that requires this level of focus, an angel would almost certainly use Old Enochian... _High_ Enochian. The risk of introducing unpredictability and variance into the spellwork would be too great, otherwise. The only reason to use a human language would be if the original spell or ritual had been created in partnership with humans at a time and place that particular language was in use. Which, again, does not lend itself favorably to the idea that this is an angel. There were no interactive posts in that area, at that time.”

Dean's brow furrowed.

“My garrison was assigned to that region,” Cas answered the unspoken question “We witnessed the formation of the Sumerian civilization and the establishment of its first cities.”

“Right.” Dean nodded, allowing himself only a couple of seconds to stare at Cas and let the angel’s incredible age and store of experiences wash over him, once again. He shook himself out of it. This wasn’t the time for another ‘ _Holy shit! Cas is an ANGEL!_ ’ freak out. He hadn’t had nearly enough booze for that.

“So, not only is it not  _you_ with Jack right now, it’s probably some kinda... _thing._ ” Dean grumbled. “And it’s been feedin’ who knows what into that kid’s head since day one. That’s just…great.” He wriggled down further into the cushions and brought his hand up to rub his eyes. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

“It’s...certainly not ideal,” Cas agreed.

Dean snorted. He let his head roll to the side so he could look at his friend. Cas did the same. They both grinned and Dean chuckled ironically.

“In a way, I’m grateful,” Cas said with a heavy sigh. “If it were any less worrisome I’d have difficulty believing I was back home.”

Dean openly laughed. “Be careful, man. You’re startin’ to sound like me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone I’d want to imitate more.” Cas’s tone was still humorous, but he clearly meant it and it stopped Dean’s laughter very quickly. The two of them stared at each other until neither one could take it anymore.

Cas sighed again and closed his eyes. “Dean- ”

“Cas… You don’t have to-”

“Nothing is more important to me that our friendship.” Cas continued. Dean groaned quietly and briefly closed his eyes, bracing himself. “What you and Sam have given me...what we’ve shared together...when I said it’s changed me, I meant it. And when I told you that I love you, I meant that, too. I do, Dean. As my friend, first and foremost. Anything else would be…” He paused and swallowed, wiping his nose again. “Your friendship is enough. It’s everything. I never would have jeopardized that by saying anything about any of this.”

Cas motioned vaguely at the coffee table covered in the evidence of their parallel relationship. Dean looked at it, too. His gaze quickly settled on the envelope full of pictures.

“So, he was right,” Dean said and looked back over at Cas. “You wouldn’t have told me.” The sad tone of his voice was quickly morphing into frustration and anger. “What were you gonna do? Throw it all away? Look through those private letters they sent and...edit shit out? Or just toss ‘em? Were you gonna throw out  _Bobby’s_ letters  _too?"_

“I didn’t know  _what_ to do!” Cas answered, lifting his hands in frustration. “I hoped I...that maybe the letters would be... _I didn’t know, Dean!_ What would  _you_ have done?”

Dean set his jaw, but kept quiet. He knew he didn’t have an answer for that, but the idea that Cas would bury all the evidence wasn’t sitting right with him. It hurt. And he resented the fact that he felt like somehow this was all his fault.

“They gave me the letters just before I left. I didn’t have time…” Cas swallowed and looked back at the ceiling. He was crying again and that fact was making it even harder for him to say what he needed to say. “I’d always been under the impression that you thought of me as a friend. Nothing more. I accepted that.”

He cut himself off, reaching for the roll of paper towels and peeling off a few more. Wiping his face, he huffed, irritated. “ _This,”_ he said, gesturing at his face and the towel,  _“_ is an extremely unhelpful reaction.” He blew his nose loudly and with clear disdain. “It started in the other universe and I can’t seem to make it stop, now.” He shook his head. “I should have been more disciplined. Apologies.”

There was a short pause before Dean cleared his throat.

“You get to cry sometimes, Cas. It’s allowed.”

“I shouldn’t have given in. Shouldn’t have...let myself do the things...I… I shouldn’t have let myself…” he trailed off.

“What? Feel?” Dean looked back over at him but Cas kept his focus on the ceiling.

“It’s much more difficult, now,” Cas said, barely above a whisper. “Now that I know.”

“Know wha… ah, man,” Dean groaned. “Did he... Did he push you to…” he winced. “Shit. Don’t answer that. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“No,” Cas said, letting his head roll to look at his friend. “He offered, but… No.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Dean repeated. “Seriously, Cas, you don’t owe me any kinda explanation. At all. What you did or didn’t do, it’s not- ”

“It’s alright.”

Letting out a puff of breath, Dean put both hands up to his face and briefly rubbed. Then he dragged them both down and let them fall heavily in his lap.

“I’m sorry.”

There was another long pause while neither of them looked at each other. Both were fidgeting uncomfortably and it was obvious the conversation needed to escalate or end, but it wasn’t going to go either direction without a push.

“So, what… Uh... What’s more difficult now?” Dean finally asked. He was clearly anxious, but he gave his friend his full attention anyway.

Cas swallowed and looked back up at the ceiling.

“Ignoring it.” He sniffed loudly again and the paper towels went back to work. “It’s easier, when there’s no hope. You stop looking for hints - stop wondering if there’s another meaning behind words or actions. You know there isn’t. There never was. You can...push it aside. Focus on the task at hand and try not to think about it. It works. For the most part. There were only a few occasions when it hurt enough to make it impossible for me to be around you. Those were always short lived. A day or two. Nothing I couldn’t manage.” Cas was still looking at the ceiling and wiping his nose after every couple of sentences. His voice had relaxed and he seemed to be talking to himself as much as to his friend. “Now, though...knowing that you  _did_ have feelings for me...before I betrayed you. Knowing it could have been...very different...it’s...um...” Cas trailed off.

Dean stared at him for a long moment, opening his mouth to speak several times, but thinking better of it.

“I told you I’d find a way to redeem myself to you,” Cas continued. “I tried, Dean. Over and over, I tried. But I failed. Every time.” He looked at his friend as a fresh wave of tears coursed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Dean continued to stare in stunned silence. All the scattered little puzzle pieces of his relationship with Cas over the last six or more years were snapping into place with alarming ease. They all fit, now. All of them. He couldn’t believe he’d missed this.

“ _That’s_ what you’ve been doin’?” Dean asked, sounding just as shocked as he looked. “This whole damned time?”

Cas sniffed and kept looking at him.

“Shit,” Dean groaned. He’d have laughed at the absurdity if he didn’t feel like such a moron. “That’s not… Cas, you… That’s…” He was shaking his head, trying to fit the jumble of words in his mind together into something that would even remotely make sense. In the end, he gave up and reached across the table for a pair of Cas’s new shoes. He figured they’d fit close enough.

“What are you doing,” Cas asked as he watched Dean put them on. They appeared to be only slightly tight on him.

“There’s beer in the cooler...and half a bottle of Jack in the trunk...and I ain’t having the rest of this conversation without both of ‘em.” He finished squeezing his heel into the second shoe and stood, staring down at Cas. He pointed down to his feet. “I’m borrowin’ these,” he said as he stepped over Cas’s legs and headed for the front door. He diverted and grabbed his keys off the kitchen table.

Cas watched him go. Moments later, he had to swallow a massive lump in his throat and stifle the urge to leap up and run out after him, when he heard the Impala’s engine start. He kicked himself when he realized Dean was simply pulling the car closer to the cabin.

Cas squeezed his eyes shut and took a long deep breath. He had to pull himself together. He was being ridiculous.

The storm was raging outside. He was sure his friend would be soaked when he came back in, so he began sifting through the clothing on the table, looking for a suitable t-shirt and sleep pants. He wasn’t sure if Dean had packed a spare set, but he now knew that in t-shirts, at least, they both wore the same size. And boxers. He guessed the pants would probably fit, too, but just in case, he tried to remember which of them had fit him the baggiest, when he last wore them.

He heard a thump on the porch and the sound of gagging. It was quiet and then the trunk of the Impala slammed shut and there was a scraping sound starting next to the door and leading all the way to the edge of the porch at the side of the cabin. The sound happened a second time, exactly like the first. It was periodically interrupted by gagging.

Moments later, the door burst open, and a drenched Dean tossed his shovel on the porch and hurried in, slamming the door behind him, not at all caring if he woke Sam. He looked mildly traumatized.

“Ok...I shoved our clothes off the porch. They’re under the downspout” he announced and tried in vain to take a breath of fresh air without gagging again. “They still smell like that in the mornin’, I’m burnin’ ‘em.” He shuddered. “ _Fuck_ , that is gross!”

He made his way to the table with the cooler, setting it down and fishing out the bottle of whiskey he’d tossed in there for ease of transport. Then he pulled out a dripping six-pack of beer, pulled two cans out of the rings and tossed the other four in the refrigerator. He began going through the cabinets, looking for whiskey glasses. The best he could find were a couple of very small mason jars. They’d work.

When he turned back to the table, Cas was standing nearby, silently watching him, holding a stack of dry clothes like an offering.

Dean looked at him for a long moment, forcefully willing himself to not do or say anything stupid. Cas was trying so hard to keep things comfortable between them. He clearly had no idea what to do. Neither did Dean, of course, but he realized a single thoughtless word right now would probably crush Cas. The pain in his friend’s eyes was so clear to him...he wondered how he could ever have mistaken it for anything else. Without a word, he set the jars on the table and walked over to him.

“I think they’ll fit,” Cas mumbled, dropping his gaze down and fidgeting awkwardly as Dean got very close.

Dean took the little stack from him and set it on the table.Then he reached both arms around Cas and pulled him into a hug.

It took Cas a moment, but he eventually got both his arms around Dean, too...and he held on, seemingly for dear life. He buried his face in Dean’s shoulder and continued to adjust his grip on him until he had pulled him as close as he possibly could.

Dean sighed and turned his face toward Cas’s ear.

“I don’t know what you thought redeeming yourself should look like, but from my side...you and me...we’re good. Have been for a long time.” He nudged Cas’s head with his own and lightly pat the angel’s back. “I’m gonna get pissed at ya now and again. It happens. Even with family. Hell... _especially_ with family. It doesn’t change anything.” He hesitated for a moment and sighed again. “It was never about that, Cas.”

Again, they were silent. Dean had begun to slowly rock from side to side, taking the angel along with him. Cas let him. It was soothing. He couldn’t explain why. Eventually, though, he had to ask. He didn’t want to.

“So…” Cas began very hesitantly. “You, um… Even at first… You never...um… Never felt…” He trailed off, unable to find the words to ask the question properly. Saying it outright felt too blunt, even to him. He couldn’t do it.

Dean had closed his eyes and the swaying became a little more intense. The internal war he was raging with himself was nearing critical levels and he knew he either needed to say it right now or he never would.

“I did, Cas. The other me...he was right.”

The swaying stopped and every muscle in Dean’s body began to tighten. The raw panic coursing through him at the realization that he’d just said it outloud was almost completely crippling. His mind raced, but all his thoughts were garbled. He couldn’t even pinpoint what he was afraid might happen. He only knew that he’d just lit a fuse. With any luck, the explosion would be nothing more than some firecrackers. But the idea that it might be a thermonuclear detonation that would instantly vaporize him was also strangely appealing at the moment. Either way, there was no taking his statement back. It was out there now. Cas knew exactly what he meant and everything would change. Life as he knew it was over.

“I don’t understand,” Cas said, with a big sniff.

Dean sighed, resisting the urge to give up on this entire conversation and run back out of the cabin and down the road in his drenched pj’s and Cas’s too tight shoes, and never, ever stop. He should have seen this coming. Of course, Cas wouldn’t make it easy. It would have to be laid out for him in painful, terrifying detail.

“It... _wasn’t_ my betrayal that destroyed those feelings?” Cas turned his face more toward Dean’s neck until he was able to see at least part of his friend’s expression. “Was it Purgatory? Are you still angry with me about-”

“No,” Dean tried to assure him, but his frustration was clear in his voice. He groaned and sighed at the same time and let his head drop back a little. “Cas…” He couldn’t get any further.

He felt Cas slump in his arms. The angel seemed to actually shrink a little and Dean realized it was now or never, once again. He sincerely hoped this was the last time. He didn’t know how many more misunderstood professions of love he’d be able white-knuckle his way through tonight.

“I never stopped. Feeling...that way...I mean.” He swallowed and braced himself, before daring to look down and meet the angel’s partially buried face. Cas’s one visible eye was staring at him. “I...uhm…” Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I still do.”

And there it was - clear understanding in the angel’s expression. Finally, Dean could be certain he’d just screwed himself and get on with a full blown panic attack.

Cas’s brow furrowed, but he never stopped staring at his friend.

“You never said anything,” Cas said, partly as a question.

“Neither did you,” Dean challenged. He looked back at him with the beginnings of a tiny grin.

“I didn’t know...how to...um…”

“Me neither.”

Cas’s face was scrunching further as he processed all of this. Eventually he shook his head.

“If it wasn’t what I’d done… I don’t… The other Dean said you’d-”

“You left, Cas.” Dean’s tone stopped Cas’s floundering. The words were like a slap and the angel froze.

Dean let him think about it for a moment, before continuing.

“You always left. Every time we had a chance to just...I dunno... _breathe_ for a second… You always left.” Dean was looking down at Cas’s shoulder now. “It didn’t matter what I thought or...felt. You were gonna leave again.”

“Dean-”

“I can take...pretty much anything off of anybody. I mean, you can pull all manner of bullshit, and if I know you’re sorry I can let it slide. But you can’t… I can’t, um…” Dean swallowed and realized the lump in his throat was too big to shove down. He tried a few more times, hoping to stem the tide, but it was too late. He was already crying.

“I never really wanted to leave,” Cas murmured. “I wanted to stay with you and Sam. Even the times I chose-”

“I know,” Dean said, nodding. “I know ya did. But that’s...kinda the point. There’s always gonna be some big thing...some crisis in Heaven or some crazed archangel on the loose or...you gotta go take care of some... _thing_ … And you’ll leave.” He unabashedly wiped his nose on Cas’s coat. He refused to make sniffling noises while he was saying any of this. “I can’t… I can’t be with someone...I know is gonna leave. Everyone leaves, eventually. But if I already know you’re gonna… I just...I can’t.”

For a long moment, Cas was silent. He repositioned his face and arms slightly and leaned into his friend a little bit more.

“So…” Cas paused to clear his throat. He swallowed and continued, hesitantly. “What if...um… What if I promised to stay?”

Dean sighed and pat Cas’s back a couple of times. “You can’t promise that. There’s always gonna be something that comes up. And you’re gonna wanna handle it. And you should. It’s what we do, right? We help. The family business. You’re part of that. You always have been.”

There was another long pause. Dean took the opportunity to wipe his eyes.

“What if…” Cas said, dragging the words out just a bit.

“Cas…” Dean groaned.

“No, listen. What if…I promised to take you with me?” He pulled back just a little, so he could better see Dean. “Or if I can’t take you with me, what if I promised that...as soon as I’m done or as soon as I have a break...I’ll come back? And I’ll stay...as long as I can. Would that…um... Would it change...anything?”

Dean began rocking again as he thought about it. After several long seconds he shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I really don’t. I mean, it’s… I can’t even believe we’re talkin’ about this. I’ve been shovin’ all of this outta my head for...years. I got nothin’ right now.”

Cas nodded. “That’s...understandable.”

“I mean, I’m not tryin’ to blow you off-”

“I know,” Cas assured him.

Dean sighed again and squeezed his friend tighter. “I have no idea, Cas.”

Cas nodded again and gently pat Dean’s back. They rocked quietly for a few moments.

“Well...I promise to stay or to take you with me, from now on, anyway. You’re my friend. I don’t want to hurt you. So, I’ll stay. As much as I can. No matter if...you want me the other way or not.”

There was another long pause and Dean’s voice obviously cracked when he finally spoke. He kept his face buried in Cas’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll do it anyway,” Cas promised. He was helping Dean to keep the same pace in his rocking, now, and gently rubbing his friend’s back.

“It’s  _my_  problem, Cas-”

“I’ll do it anyway,” Cas whispered. “I love you, Dean.” He hesitated, trying to keep himself from fully breaking. “I don’t know when I’ll have the courage to say it again...but it’s true. I love you. I always have.” 

They fell silent again and the moment lingered.

Outside, the wind abruptly picked up, filling the room with a dull roar. The cabin shuddered and creaked. A pulse of thunder rattled the windows in their frames and the small fire blazed as the low pressure around the cabin pulled air up through the chimney.

When the wind died back, Dean sniffed and cleared his throat. “Was that you?” His face was still buried in Cas’s coat so his voice was muffled.

It took a second, but then Cas snorted and grinned.

“That was not me.”

“You sure? You kinda get a flare for the dramatic sometimes.”

Cas’s grin grew. “You should change into dry clothing. You’re shivering.” He very gently coaxed Dean into breaking the hug. It was then that he realized just how hard Dean had been crying - his face was wrecked and it wasn’t showing signs of clearing any time soon.

Cas held his friend’s arms for just a moment, then stepped around him to grab the paper towels from the couch. He handed them to him and quickly poured them each a full jar of whiskey. He walked back to stand in front of his friend and handed him one of the jars. Dean took it gratefully.

“To... _non_ -absent friends,” Cas said. He raised his jar in a toast.

Dean allowed himself a brief glance at the angel, before he clinked his jar against Cas’s and took a big swig. Cas downed the whole thing, of course. It wouldn’t affect him much anyway.

Dean stared at the remaining whiskey in his jar for a long time. Then he reached up and rubbed his eyes.

“I have no idea what to do right now.” He sighed and dropped his hand away. He raised the jar to his lips, again, intending to finish off the remainder.

“Well,” Cas said thoughtfully, “we could get drunk and make out on the couch.”

It would have been a perfect spit take if Dean hadn’t already been in the process of swallowing. As it was, the whiskey went every direction it shouldn’t have inside Dean’s throat and nasal passages and the man began a frenzied, painful-looking coughing fit.

Cas winced apologetically and reached forward, using his grace to try to help ease his friend’s discomfort. Dean coughed one final time and cleared his throat.

“That was the least helpful thing you could have possibly said.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas said through a quiet giggle. “The... _other you_ often used that suggestion to break the tension when our conversations became too serious. I thought perhaps it would be helpful in this situation.”

Dean looked back at him, and then cracked a smile. “S’ok,” he grunted with a single nod. “It was pretty damned funny, you just...caught me off guard.” He raised his hand to wag a finger at the angel. “Don’t steal my lines!”

“Of course,” Cas said, still grinning. “My apologies.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Dean had to reach out. He didn’t have the words to convey what he felt. He needed to touch him. He cupped his hand around Cas’s neck and face.

Cas’s grin increased, and when Dean let his thumb glide softly across his cheek, Cas closed his eyes and tilted his head into the touch.

Dean swallowed hard and a fresh batch of tears ran down his cheeks. It was surreal...and overwhelming. A couple of hours ago, Cas loving him and alien encounters were the only two things he knew for certain to be in the one hundred percent ‘not-gonna-happen’ category. The fact that one of those things was now inarguably happening seemed to be proof that he was imagining all of this. He kept waiting for the punch line. Or to wake up.

But it wasn’t a joke. And he wasn’t dreaming. This was real. He was standing there, holding his friend’s beautiful face, watching him savor what Dean had always been too afraid to give him. It was too much.

Cas let his eyes slowly open again and when he saw the emotional upheaval and exhaustion in Dean’s face, he knew it was time to stop.

“You need to rest,” he barely said. He squeezed Dean’s forearm which he only now realized he’d reached up and taken hold of, at some point. Clearing his throat, he broke eye contact, so he could try to regain some composure. “You should...change into dry clothes. Get some sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

Dean’s gaze never wavered. He stood staring at the angel, releasing his hold on his friend’s face very reluctantly. Cas forced himself to remove his hand from Dean’s arm and break contact.

“I’ll...see if I can remove the filth from the clothing outside.”

“The, uh...boots and jackets are really...they’re all that matter. We’ve got more of the other stuff.”

Cas nodded and after a short hesitation, he turned toward the door.

“You’re comin’ with us, right? Tomorrow?” Dean asked. His voice was quiet, but he sounded very hopeful. “You don’t have...some other...stuff-”

“I’m coming with you.”

They stared for a long moment. Eventually Cas gestured toward the stack of clothes on the table. “Get warm,” he murmured, and then turned and went out the front door. He pulled it gently closed behind him and Dean was alone in the room.

The stillness quickly became intolerable. He reached for the clothes and walked to the corner near the fireplace, out of sight of the front window. Cas reentered the house, just as Dean was slipping the dry t-shirt over his head.

Cas had the clothing draped over his arm and both pairs of boots in his hands. He held them up with a tiny nod of triumph.

“Luckily, this creature was simply loathsome...but not cursed. I was able to remove it all very easily.”

“Ah...that’s awesome,” Dean breathed, finally starting to feel a bit more like himself again. He thought for a moment and then winced. “So...would I be pushin’ it to ask you to do that for the car, too? We got outta there in a hurry, so...that shit kinda got everywhere. At least driver seat and shotgun. The doors...the steering wheel…”

Cas grinned. “Of course.” He turned and walked back toward the door.

“Keys,” Dean called back to him. He trotted over to the table, grabbed the keys and tossed them to the angel. Cas caught them one handed this time. Dean smiled.

The front door closed and, once again, he was alone. The relative silence was deafening. He stood there, feeling like a nervous idiot for about five seconds before heading to the refrigerator and pulling out two cold beers. He took them back to the couch and sat down...and remembered he’d already gotten two beers out that they’d never opened. And then he realized he’d changed his clothes but was still wearing Cas’s wet, too-tight shoes for no particular reason.

He groaned and chuckled nervously. He hadn’t felt this flustered in a very long time and he wished with all his heart he wasn’t so dead tired right now. He wanted to do...something. He had no idea what, but the idea of just going to sleep when the best thing that had ever happened to him was about to walk back in and spend the night...and NOT leave in the morning… He couldn’t imagine anything he wanted to do less than sleep through even a moment of that. They both led horribly dangerous lives. There was no telling how many days, hours or even minutes either of them had left and the idea of wasting any of it was just…

The door opened, and closed, and Cas walked slowly to the table to drop off the keys. Dean turned and looked over the back of the couch so he could watch him.

“I got us both a fresh beer,” he said with a goofy, nervous smile, and immediately felt like that was possibly the stupidest thing that had ever come out of his mouth. His face contorted into several uncomfortable expressions before he closed his eyes in embarrassment and turned back around to stare, horrified, at the fire. He popped open his beer and damned near slammed the whole thing in one go.

Cas made his way to the other seat on the couch and stood there, watching Dean sympathetically.

“Nothing’s changed, Dean,” he said quietly.

Dean looked up at him with complete incredulity, furrowing his brow and shaking his head like he could not believe Cas had just said that. At which point, the angel acknowledged how ridiculous that sounded and nodded.

“I meant...you don’t need to...do anything. Or change anything.” Cas sat slowly, letting out a long, heavy sigh. “I have no expectations. Only that you remain my friend. Whatever else may happen as a result of...these...um...revelations...I’ll take as a bonus.” Dean met his gaze after that and Cas gently smiled back at him.

Dean nodded and dropped his gaze back down to the beer in his hands.

“You really should go to bed,” Cas coaxed again.

“I’m fine right here,” Dean replied. He finished off the rest of his beer.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable upstairs in one of the bed-”

“You’re gonna be down here, right?” Dean asked, cutting him off.

Cas stared at him, squinting slightly. He nodded when Dean looked over at him.

“I’m stayin’ down here, then,” Dean said. He set the can on the coffee table and leaned back in his seat.

Cas stared at him for a few seconds, trying to understand what was happening. Eventually, he decided to leave it alone and he turned his gaze back to the fire.

He leaned forward and opened his beer. Taking a sip, he scooted to the edge of his seat so he could begin sorting through the collection of files the other Sam had loaded onto DVDs. He was arranging them based on some logical criteria that Dean wasn’t going to attempt to figure out tonight.

A few minutes later, Cas glanced over at his friend and saw that Dean’s eyes were closed and his head was hanging lower and lower every second. He smiled at him and stopped his rummaging through the duffel bag.

“Dean,” Cas said quietly. Dean’s eyes popped open for a second or two and then immediately began to droop and close again.

“‘M awake,” Dean mumbled.

Cas snorted. “Yes, I can see that.” He reached behind himself and pulled off the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. Then he grabbed the extra cushion from his seat and placed it against the arm of the couch so he could turn to the side and lean back on it. He took the center cushion and placed it on top of the leg he'd folded up under himself.

“Lie down,” he said, lightly patting the top of the pillow.

Dean looked over at him questioningly. He wasn’t sure if he should take the angel up on the offer. It was an extremely couple-ish position to fall asleep in and it immediately tripped every instinctive alarm in him. For a brief moment, he was wide awake. Then, the fatigue overtook him again and he gave up. He rolled to the side and curled up with his head and shoulder on the pillow and his legs tucked up onto the couch. Cas unfurled the blanket over him and made sure he was completely covered.

“You can’t reach the table like this,” Dean mumbled.

“I don’t need to do that right now. It can wait.”

“You’re gonna get bored.”

“I won’t be bored.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Dean’s voice was barely audible and he was slurring, almost asleep.

Cas hesitated. In the silence, he very slowly reached down and let his hand gently pet Dean’s hair.

“‘S’ok,” Dean mumbled. “You can say it.”

Cas smiled and continued to pet him. Dean sighed contentedly and snuggled up a little on the pillow.

“I’ll watch over you,” Cas said, barely above a whisper.

“K,” Dean breathed.

“Yeah?” Cas asked.

“Yeah.”

A few moments passed, and then Dean wriggled again, getting himself more comfortable. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“Night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sam started moving around upstairs just as the grandfather clock began to chime five o’clock. It was only a few minutes before the young man trotted briskly down the stairs.

“Mornin’, Cas,” he said with a small grin.

Cas waved a greeting, but didn’t speak. Sam found that odd enough to divert his path toward his friend, instead of the kitchen. He quietly leaned over the couch to see his brother still sleeping in Cas’s lap.

The smile that spread across Sam’s face was nothing short of dazzling. He looked at Cas and raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

Cas tilted his head, smiling, and gave his friend a dismissive eye roll. Sam giggled.

“Ok,” he nodded approvingly and straightened up. With another huge smile, he winked at Cas and headed back toward the kitchen. “I was gonna go for a jog,” he chatted in a very low whisper, “but, I figure it’d just get my sneakers all muddy and since my boots are…” He stopped, setting a bowl full of leftovers from last night’s dinner on the table right next to his completely clean boots. He pursed his lips and stared at them. “Well, ok, then.” He turned and headed back up the stairs. Moments later he descended again, this time in running shorts and socks, carrying his sneakers. He sat at the kitchen table and began lacing them up.

“So,” he said, looking from his shoes to Cas and back several times. “Anything I should...know about?” He was trying to be tactful, but he really couldn’t help grinning. He was far too happy for both of them to do anything else.

“No,” Cas whispered back. He looked at his friend meaningfully. “Nothing’s changed, Sam.”

Sam snorted and side-eyed Cas. “Yeah,” he said, making it very clear Cas was ridiculous for even trying to act like that was true. Cas rolled his eyes again.

“I won’t be long,” Sam said, chugging a big glass of water and setting it on the counter. He wiped his mouth and let out a big sigh as he looked back over at Cas. “Unless...you need me to be?” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at the angel.

“Sam…”

“I could...ya know...take my time? Check out the sights-”

“Get out.”

Sam laughed as quietly as he could and trotted lightly out the door. Cas grinned and shook his head.

Dean managed to sleep through the entire exchange and the angel continued to watch him, pleased to witness a rare occasion when his friend looked extremely comfortable and at peace. He was still asleep half an hour later, when Sam came back.

Sam took his time showering and dressing, and he packed up much more slowly and thoroughly than usual. He did a few extra things, too, like cleaning and organizing his shaving kit, and sorting the few loose items in his duffel into pockets. He thoroughly cleaned the mud off of his sneakers, not just a quick rinse. Eventually, there was nothing left to do and it was getting late. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed back downstairs.

When he saw Cas exactly where he'd left him, and his brother still completely out of it, he knew he had to put his foot down.

“Dude…” Sam said as he sat to eat the bowl of leftovers he’d made for himself earlier. “You gotta wake him up now. Come on.”

“He rarely sleeps this well, Sam,” Cas tried to say without whining. He managed it, but just barely.

Sam smiled. “Yeah, I know,” he said with more than a hint of humor. “But you let him sleep too long and he’s gonna wake up groggy. He’ll be miserable. And pissed we let him sleep in when we’ve got stuff to do.” Sam chewed and swallowed, making his way through the leftovers in record time. “Plus, he’ll be crabby and it’s a long car ride today and I don’t wanna have to put up with his shit.”

“Perhaps...he could ride with me today?” Cas said, almost sheepishly...as though suggesting it was somehow imposing or even crossing a line. Sam raised his eyebrows and looked at the angel.

“Huh,” Sam said, with a badly concealed grin. “Maybe.” He went back to his meal and the grin got bigger. “It’d probably be good to have someone who knows how to fix cars ride along with you anyway. No offense, but that truck of yours...I’m pretty sure Dean’s been makin’ plans to take it out back and shoot it. It’s really the humane thing to do, at this point.”

“What’s wrong with my truck,” Cas asked defensively...and, once again, a little hurt by the criticism of his vehicle.

“Nothin’, Cas,” Sam assured him. “It’s a great truck. Ya know...other than it needs new brakes, tires, shocks and a new engine and probably transmission, too. Other than that, though...it’s great.”

Cas wasn’t entirely sure exactly what that meant, but it was clear from the younger Winchester’s tone that his truck was being thoroughly disrespected.

“I like it,” he snapped.

“Ok...well, have Dean tell ya what it’ll take to keep it running and you guys can come up with somethin’, I’m sure.” Sam finished his food and rose to take the bowl to the sink. He noticed the hurt look on Cas’s face and stopped.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t mean...it’s not a crappy truck. I know you like it. It just...needs a lotta work, that’s all. And you need somethin’ that’s not gonna break down on ya. Ya know? Dean can tell you all about it, I promise. He’s been itchin’ to anyway.” Sam paused and sighed. “Constantly,” he said with more than a little fatigue. “He just... worries about ya. Wants to make sure you don’t get stuck somewhere.”

“I can take care of myself, Sam. Neither of you needs to worry.”

Sam looked at him and let out a heavy sigh. “Dude...seriously?” He shook his head. “Wow, this is...not gonna be as fun as I thought,” he muttered to himself as he took the bowl to the sink and washed it. When he was done, he made his way over to the couch and leaned down on the back of it, still keeping his voice very low.

“Cas...him worrying about you in that truck doesn’t mean he doesn’t think you can take of yourself. Ok? It’s his way of telling you he cares. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t ever talk about you or that truck or worry about you or drive me nuts wondering why you haven’t called or freak out when he thinks you’re in trouble and he can’t get to you or...any of the hundred other things he’s been obsessing over for years.”

Cas looked at the young man with open shock. After a moment, he looked down at the sleeping man in his lap...and then back up at Sam.

“Do you get what I’m sayin’?” Sam asked, hoping like hell he’d laid it out clearly enough, because obviously someone needed to.

Cas nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“Ok. Awesome,” Sam said and clapped the angel on the shoulder and grinned at him. Then he looked down at his brother and popped him on the arm. “Hey,” Sam said at a more normal volume. Dean stirred slightly and made a tiny noise. “Yeah, yeah...up and at ‘em, jerk. Daylight’s wastin’.” He gave him another couple of firm pats on the arm and then stood and walked away.

Dean made a long undignified noise and then slowly shook himself awake. It took him a moment to figure out where he was...and then in who’s lap he was lying...and then to remember what happened last night. He was instantly awake then. He sat up immediately, looking around at his brother and then looking back at Cas. The angel was quietly smiling at him, completely unphased by Sam’s witnessing of their sleeping arrangements.

Dean looked back at Sam again and then took a moment to shake himself fully awake.

“Cas mentioned you ridin’ with him today,” Sam called over to his brother from the kitchen, as he put the remaining leftovers into a bowl for Dean and washed out the pot. “Sounds like a good idea, right? That truck’s on it’s last leg. You should ride with him ‘til you have a chance to look at it.”

Dean sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, and then cleared his throat.

“Yeah...prob’ly a good idea.” He looked over at Cas, trying his damnedest to be casual. “You’re ok with that?”

Cas beamed at him. “I’d love the company. If you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll, uh...get dressed and we can hit the road.”

“There’s food,” Sam announced, pointing at the table.

“Awesome...thanks, Sammy.” Dean threw the blanket back on the couch and met Cas’s eyes again, when the angel stood.

“Gimme ten minutes,” Dean said, still staring at him.

“Of course,” Cas answered. The staring continued until Sam cleared his throat.

“Ok,” Dean said and turned and literally ran up the stairs.

Cas quietly scooped up the contents of his bag and put it all neatly back inside. He picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder, and headed for the door.

“There are a couple of items in here for you, Sam. I can give them to you now, or we can wait until we stop again?”

“Nah, I’m good waitin’. Unless, I mean, do I need them right now, or-”

“No, they’re...really for a time you have a moment to look at them and...think. It can wait.”

“Ok,” Sam said, suddenly a little freaked out but willing to trust his friend. “We’ll be out in a sec.”

Cas nodded and left.

Moments later, Dean blew down the steps far faster than he normally would. He was clearly trying to keep himself from looking too eager, but he was failing badly. Sam could read him like a book.

Dean scarfed down the food in the minimal number of bites, never bothering to sit at the table. He then handed the bowl and spoon to his brother.

“You got the rest of this?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at the dishes and the rest of the cabin in general and not really waiting for the reply.

“Uh…” Sam began.

“Awesome,” Dean said, clapping his little brother on the back and heading for the front door, duffel bag already on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I got it,” Sam said to his brother’s back as Dean exited. He chuckled and shook his head. “Wow...all this time,” Sam mumbled to himself, “and in the end, all it took was one of them getting sucked into a parallel universe where they already  _had_ a relationship... and  _then_ somehow making his way  _back_ to our universe with a smartbomb video on his phone that would auto-send and  _out_ him to the other one involuntarily. I mean...it was simple, really. Why didn’t I think of that?” he finished rinsing the pot and set it in the drainer. A movement caught his eye outside the kitchen window and he leaned forward to see Cas, standing by the side of the house, staring at the spot where the rift had been. Moments later, the angel smiled softly and made a small bow with his head, then turned and walked back toward the front of the house.

Sam’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it and saw the text from Dean.

     _'Truck’s good. Let’s go.'_

Sam grinned and slipped the phone in his pocket. He grabbed his bag and the keys to the Impala off the table before crossing the cabin to the front door. He stopped, taking one last look around, feeling strangely sentimental about the place, for some reason. Then he turned, opened the door, set the lock, and made sure it clicked when he pulled the door closed behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people asked about the letters and I was a terrible, cruel writer and didn't say anything else about them. Well...the lovely kisahawklin fixed that!  
> She has written a beautiful companion piece for this fic that captures what she thought might be in those letters. They're awesome and I am super stoked about this! Hell, I wanted to know what they said, too. LOL  
> Please go check them out and give her some love.
> 
> LETTERS TO DEAN, by kisahawklin  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/12811185/chapters/29244270

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Letters to Dean](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12811185) by [kisahawklin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin)




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